


A Night To Remember.

by ThemSoundwaves



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Drama, Drastic turn, Drunkenness, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of drinking, Major Character Injury, Mood Swings, OCC Sometimes, Original Character Death(s), Peer Pressure, Physical Disability, Rewrite, Romance, Some dark moments, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Swearing, mentions of abuse, mostly AU, on Earth, relationships, some OCs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2018-12-23 01:08:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 33,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11978922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThemSoundwaves/pseuds/ThemSoundwaves
Summary: Jazz is a mech of determination, When he wants something, he'll bust his aft to make it happen. Thus, during a perceived lull in enemy activity, the saboteurs particularly creative mind brews up a single goal to achieve. Something Impossible, untried, completely unthinkable...Within the span of a single night plenty of things can, and will happen. Some are quite memorable, others... Not so much, but A drunk Prowl? That's something memorable, Jazz has set his spark on getting just that. A drunk Prowl. It was unattainable, unspeakable just downright impossible, and so they all would say.Not for Jazz. If anyone could do it.He could.He could try.





	1. Step one: Invitation.

**Author's Note:**

> This is an older work I posted on FF but decided to touch up and share somewhere else. The content within is an alteration of that older work, this version will differ in places from the original piece.   
>  It's still a work in progress. Updates may be slow. Keep in mind I have no beta and I've tried, to the best of my abilities, to correct all the mistakes I could eyeball.

Optics glued to the mech before him, Jazz folded his arms across the blue of his chassis, his visor was darker then its normal lively blue. Jazz expertly copied Optimus's trademark 'I'm important' stance, his lips weren't set in his usual smile, but set in a firm line as he attempted- and succeeded in looking dead serous.

In front of him stood none other then Sideswipe, one of the infamous twins, and in front of Sideswipe was one the crews youngest, and best snipers, Bluestreak.

Jazz listened and watched with mild interest as Sideswipe chatted shamelessly, and proudly -may he add- to the sniper about a recent battle and a very enduring Jet Judo match, which ended with Sideswipe performing one of his most 'astonishing' moves, that involved him jumping from Skywarp's back at a stunning eighty foot hight. Sideswipe then proceeded in doing an 'amazing' landing that looked extremely painful and unplanned.

Jazz was defiantly impressed, it had been dangerous and stupid, but it was certainly something to see, imagine, during the heat of battle you look up to see a little red dot plummeting towards earth at breaking speeds? Though of course, Ratchet had a fit afterwords. Giving, the mech didn't leave completely unsacaved.

The entire show was worth ten points, really.

Bluestreak bobbled his head his face scrunched up with excitement while the red twin bragged, his door wings wobbled behind him like an uncontrolled fan, beating against the air as he mumbled high-pitched 'yeahs'?' And 'no ways!' Jazz couldn't tell if the sniper was actually engrossed in his -obvious- crushes words, or just pretending to be so excited in order to boast Sideswipes growing ego.

"I felt like a seeker, that was... Until I saw the ground coming closer, and I realized, Holy slag, Im gonna die! That's when an idea hit me..."

Jazz purposely tuned down his Audios, not intent on listening to the rest of the front liners sentence, neither 'bots noticed Jazz's action as he lifted a servo and dialed his audio receptor, pit, he was standing almost inches away from Sideswipes back! it was sad, honestly! How could Sideswipe not notice him? Well- Sideswipe wasn't special ops, he couldn't really blame him if he didn't sense Jazz standing there, but when the saboteur moved, Sideswipe still didn't detect anything! he must have been more absorbed in the conversation then the white mech originally thought.

Pit, If Jazz vented hard enough, he was sure the air would breeze against Sideswipes neck, but would he even notice that, either? And Bluestreak, the mech was facing in his direction for Primus' sake! Surly Jazz wasn't that sneaky?

Jazz smiled thoughtfully, well, he was head of special ops for a reason, he could sneak up on anyone. Maybe not everyone, Prowl was still hard to catch off guard, an the SIC knew Jazz's little antics by now.

A small knot of anticipation ran deep in his spark, rushing through his wires as he continued to keep up his 'serous' façade, eyeballing the back red twins helm. It was hard work for the normally high-strung, outgoing bot, when he wasn't doing some high stakes mission, that was.

How in the name of Primus could Prowl stand to be so serous all the time? Jazz could barley keep it up for five minuets. In a way, Prowls somber attitude was one of the main reasons the tactician caught Jazz's optics.

It wasn't a secret on the Ark that Jazz had a crush on Prowl, pit, The mech certainly talked about the SIC enough, wether it was because of the black and whites' beautifully elegant moves on the battlefield, or his vast capacity and stunning planning, Jazz didn't know, but there was something about Prowl that hooked Jazz right in. It was weird, right? The only one who didn't seem to notice was Prowl himself, and to think, They were complete opposites, black and white, light and dark. Angel and demon...

Opposites attract.

Jazz resisted the urge to snort at his thought, but it pretty much summed everything up.

Magnets were the perfect example, north and south, the two connected, it had only fueled Jazz's interest. He had to admit that Prowl was one of the saboteur's best friends. And the only 'bot to actually keep hold of his interests.

While Jazz thought, he waited patiently for Sideswipe to finished his story, well, somewhat patiently, he could probably go on for hours, like a fangirl talking about her fandom, he didn't know how long he would be able to keep up his disguise.

Maybe Sideswipe was hanging around Bluestreak, just a little.. to.. much?

And finally, there was a time came in their conversation where a pregnant pause was found, both Bots looking at each other with a sickening amount of adoration, Jazz took that as his key to speak up.

"Sides, ah need ya help."

It was funny, honestly! the way Sideswipe jerked around as if he were slapped, hands thrown up into fists before his faceplate, ready to defend himself. Jazz couldn't help the grin that broke out on his lip plates, Sideswipe moved to fast for his own processor to handle, he even swayed!

"J-Jazz!" Sideswipe exclaimed, his tone embarrassed, he backed up a bit, bumping up against Bluestreak who, put both servos on Swideswipes shoulders and moved him slightly to the left, peeking out from behind him to see who spoke, as if the accent wasn't enough to go by.

"Oh hey Jazz! How are you? ...Are you okay? You look a little serous." Bluestreak paused, faceplates heating. "Wait, how long have you been standing there? I'm sooo sorry if you were waiting! me and Sides were talking about this epic decepticon battle and-"

Sides and I.

Wait, since when did he care about Grammar?

Damn it Prowler! Ya gettin' ta me!

"Hey Blue, ah'm fine." Jazz cut in, unable to hold back a smile at the younglings rambling. "Ah've been standin' here fer about... Ten minuets? An' its okay. No need ta get worried."

Jazz couldn't hold up his serous stance any longer, he let it drop, his visor brightening, smile resurfacing, arms dropping to his sides, one hand on his hip.

"But Ah was hopin' tha' Sides could help meh out with somethin'" Jazz continued, moving his gaze from Bluestreak to Sideswipe, who had shrugged off the snipers touch, standing tall acting like his strong, brave ego hadn't just been broken.

"Couldja help a mech out?" His tone was laced with a small bit of begging, showing that whatever the saboteur needed, it was important. For effect, Jazz put on his best 'pleeeease' smile, which was directed at the red terror twin who shot a sloppy grin back.

"Sure, what could I do for ya?" Sideswipe asked, getting all professional. His 'dealers tone.' Present.

Bluestreak, obviously seeing this as his que to leave, waved Jazz and Sideswipe off and trotted his way to the far end of the rec. room, wings bouncing, joining Smokescreen and Hound in conversation.

"Ah'm wonderin' If ya could perhaps, get Primes approval for an 'officer' party.'"

Sideswipe cocked an optic ridge, putting a finger to his chin to look deep in thought, he hummed.

"I could do that, what kind of party are we looking for? Calm, professional, or wild and crazy." Sideswipe seemed more attuned to the latter. His voice rising just a decimal to show his probably growing excitement at the thought of another wild party like the one they had a few months ago.

Jazz clapped, then he began rubbing his servos together, taking a deep, hissing vent, he side stepped so he was closer to the rec. rooms walls, leaning against it, his cool, collected posture rising.

"Wild an' crazy is wha' ah'm lookin' for." The white mech said with a knowing smirk.

"There's gatta be music tho'" Jazz continued. "Earth music, fast at tha' start, slow at the end, ya know what ah'm sayin'?"

Sideswipe nodded, his optics dimming as if making a mental note.

"When? And what for?" Sideswipe quarried, moving to lean against the wall beside the saboteur, he wasn't looking at Jazz, and Jazz wasn't looking at Sideswipe, as if trying to keep it discrete, like a deal being made in public, they went unnoticed.

"As soon as possible, ah'm gonna accomplish tha' impossible." Jazz replied smugly, tossing his head a little.

Seeming interested, Sideswipes helm casted down, Jazz's processor was already running through plans and ways to accomplish them. Both Autobots tried to hold onto their innocent, 'we aint doin' nothin'' attitude. Although, it was more for show then anything.

"'Accomplish the impossible'?" The red mech quoted, he even went as far as using his fingers to air quote.

"Whatcha' going to do?" Sideswipe intoned deeply, quietly, masking their conversation by turning his servos over and looking at them as if they were the most intresting thing in the world, Jazz, however, snickered, knowing he had the pranksters full, and undivided attention.

He finally turned to look at Sideswipe, who, had to have sensed Jazz's gaze, he looked up, his optics twinkling dangerously with mirth, mirroring the almost excited shine in Jazz's visor. With a breathy laugh, Jazz whispered, leaning in towards Sideswipe.

"Ah'm gonna get Prowl drunk." Jazz said sassily. "Ah'm gonna do it." He confirmed with a curt nod to his helm.

There was a second of silence in which Jazz could practically see Sideswipes processor mulling the white mechs words over, then, it all clicked into place.

Sideswipe abruptly broke out laughing, a laugh that tore apart their secretive aura and riveted along the walls of the Rec. room, causing the area's conversations to cease, at this, the smirk on Jazz's lip plates vanished, an unimpressed frown forming.

"Ya don' think ah can do it?" Jazz prompted, a challenge set in his tone, Sideswipe, who was bent over, immaturely slapping one of his knees, struggled for breath as his vocalizer just seemed to glitch out, making unreasonable and unneeded zzftt and krrzzt sounds.

"Jazz... This... This is Prowl were talking about, you can't be serous." Sideswipe wheezed, leaning up, only to lean back against the wall, setting his servos on his tanks, small breathy rumbling chuckles admitted from the red twins vents. His engine chuttered softly in tune to his breathy chortles.

Jazz however, was being completely serous, once again, his visor darkened, arms coming up to cross before his chassis. He stared at Sideswipes helm, to show him that yes, he was indeed serous.

Sideswipe managed to get himself under control, optics wondering around the rec room, a silly grin on his face, every now and then he would snort at the mere thought of Prowl being intoxicated.

The look Jazz shot him continued to go unnoticed by the red 'bot as the seconds ticked by and the room's inhabitance slowly began their chattering again, deeming whatever Jazz and Sideswipe were doing no longer interesting.

And still, Jazz's visor glared almost heatedly at the side if Sideswipes helm until he actually turned to look at Jazz, confused on why the mech wasn't laughing with along with him and why the air suddenly became tense.

A sharp, suprised 'nuuh' sound escaped Sideswipes throat when he came face to face with a now stoic, deadpan Jazz, when did Jazz manage to get so close to him?

Instinctively, Sidewipes hands came up to defend himself, should the mech turn to violence.

Neither bot said a word, both frozen in their respective positions, finally, Sideswipe blinked.

"You are serous, aren't you?"

"Ah am." Jazz monotoned with a brisk nod. Slowly the red twins hands came down to his sides, then he dusted off 'dirt' from his leg plates, trying to catch his cool.

Once the 'dust' was gone from the red twins polished leg plaiting, he stood up strait, casting one last disbelieving look at Jazz. However the mech still stuck out his servo.

"Well then... Lets get started?"

Jazz took Sideswipes hand, a longing grin pulling on his lips.

"Lets."

\---

It had been a little too quiet for the past two days, although, the absence of pranking never hurt the SIC, it was certainly suspicious.

However, there was still plenty of work to be done, stacks of un-reviewed data pads cluttered his normally organized desk, half of them were from RedAlert, no doubt about some minor security updates or something within those boundaries.

But the twins lack of visits to his office had the mech thinking. Normally, when someone abruptly stopped their trend or went quiet, it either meant one, something was wrong. Or two, something big was in the planning.

Prowl knew better, so he chose the latter.

The tactician chewed on the end of his stylus as he pondered over all the different types of punishments he could dish out to the terror twins after whatever they were planning was said and done.

He could go with the more subtle punishments, like six hours brig time, or monitor duty.

...Or, he could kick it up a notch and go with the treatments he knew the two mechs hated, lets say, stick them in with RedAlert for three days? Confiscate all their high-grade then put them on janitor duty for five days strait? Maybe he could up their patrol hours to sixteen instead of five?

The possibilities were endless.

While Prowl mulled over his vireos torture methods for the front liners, the end of his stylus breaking off went unnoticed, that was, until the black, cheep metal found its way down Prowls throat.

Prowl choked, vents hitching as he leaned foreword to hack out the chewed up metal, said metal landed on his desk with a small clink, Prowl blinked, trying to understand just how that had happened.

Shaking his helm, he used a servo to sweep the stylus tip off his desk and into the trash bin, he took a long, calculating look at the rest of his pen before tossing it in after the rest of it.

Opening a narrow, long drawer on his desk Prowl pulled out another Stylus, looming over his work table once again, looking over the Datapad before him.

'It is of great concern that we must acquire new equipment for our security, the cameras we have now seem to run low on battery life more often or randomly glitch, this is a high risk! We can't expect to fend off let's say, one of Soundwaves cassettes if we can't spot where its at? Furthermore, I'm suggesting that-'

Prowl sighed, staring down at the Datapad that, no longer held his interest, his thoughts kept trailing back to those pit-spawned twins, he wanted to know what they were planning, who was going to get pranked, and alert Prime before they even have a chance to finish it.

Swiping RedAlerts note to the side, Prowl opened up a document, one that Prowl had found himself constantly adding onto.

'Pranks and punishments.'

He scrolled down to the bottom of the page which, took longer then one would expect, just as he was about to set his pen down to type more, a knock sounded at his door, a knock that the SIC knew.

Knock, knock. Pause, tap, tap. Pause.

There was only one mech on the Ark that would knock to a beat.

Knock, knock. Pause, tap, tap. Pause

"Come in, Jazz"

The door cracked open a bit as the saboteur poked his helm in, he was smiling, like always, a smile that, although Prowl would never admit, he loved to see.

"Awh, how'd ya know it was meh?" Jazz pouted, an adorable frown pulling his lips down, Prowl had to blink in order to gain his composure.

"You are the only one on the base that knocks in tune to a beat." The second in command told Jazz. Said mech pursed his lip plates, looking mighty disapointed.

"Ah, well..." He looked down, seeming a bit timid all the sudden, Prowl didn't question it, it had to have been the first time he had ever seen Jazz look so... Shy.

"What is it you-"

"Ah'm'a try again, Kay?" Jazz cut in, removing his helm from the door and closing it slightly, he then opened it again, peeking back in.

"Try what ag-"

"Pretend ah wasn't here, okay?" Prowl rolled his optics at Jazz's antics, and his second interruption, his door wings slowly bobbing up to their normal 'V' position. It wasn't long before another Knock sounded at his door.

Knock knock.

There was a second of silence, where, it seemed Jazz couldn't hold himself together, because after those two harmless knocks, the door was suddenly bombarded with louder knocks, as if Jazz was slapping his palm against the door in every place he could reach.

Prowl sighed out, tapping his pen against his desk as the loud drumming continued for a couple seconds, seriously, was the saboteur flopping his body against his door?

He wouldn't doubt it.

To be honest, Prowl liked the other way a bit, because at least then he could tell it was Jazz, instead of now, whereas it sounded like someone was getting murdered against his door, and it was rather annoying. He could feel the helmache starting already.

Pinching the bridge of his nasal factory, Prowl sighed. It seemed he was doing that a lot now a days.

"Come in."

The door flew open with such force that once it hit the wall, the Paraxian jumped, just a bit, Jazz came sauntering in, not even bothering to close the door.

"Hey Prowler!" Jazz hummed loudly, the SIC shot the unstable bot a look, rubbing where his temple would have been if he were human, he picked up those moves from the organics.

"Hello Jazz." Jazz seemed to turn sneaky on Prowl, he squatted by the side of Prowls desk, his helm tilted down a bit.

"Didja know it was meh tha' time?" Jazz asked lowly, playfully. Prowl continued to rub at his forehelm, but humored his friend all the same.

"No Jazz. I did not."

He didn't have time for this, did Jazz even see the number of datapads on his desk? He had only gotten through five of them, there was at least seven more. But of course, Jazz always had a habit of pulling the tactician from his work, sometimes at the worse times when the mech needed to have them done.

Like now, for instance.

"So..." Jazz drawled musically, his visor trailing over the others frame, Prowl, for his part, finally looked over to address the mech, noticing the gawking, his wings rose a bit uncomfortably. It was impossible to tell what kind of way friend was looking him over, when he couldn't see his optics. 

The saboteur looked so at ease, crouching like that, elbows on his legs, servos dangling off, elegant. He Prowls optics moved up the mechs body, over his rounded chassis, his faceplates and finally, his visor, where Prowl couldn't will himself to look away.

"What do you need, Jazz?" Prowl asked softly, sucking in air through his vents quietly, Jazz tilted his head to the side and grinned, tapping a digit against his knee.

"Well, ah was wonderin' ya always workin' an there's a nice officer party tonight, ah wanted ya to come..." With me. The two words were left out, but the second could pratically hear them, though it was left unspoken. Prowl huffed, turning from the welcoming blue of his friends visor to stare at his Datapad, it seemed when Jazz was around, everything else was forgotten, or had to be forgotten. 

"I don't know, Jazz, there is so much work to be done-" Prowl began, stress overtaking his tone.

"Frag work." Jazz cut in, three times interrupting, may Prowl mentally point out, during this revealtion Jazz plucked Prowls Datapad out of his slack servos, he ignored the door wingers protests and tossed it carelessly to the other side of the room, where it landed on the floor by Prowls berth.

"Come on, fer meh?" Jazz pleaded, his hands balling in front of him, visor twinkling pleadingly. Prowl found he couldn't repremend Jazz's actions when he could almost see the white mechs optic ridges bent down over his optics, through the blue of his visor. The perfect sparkling beg.

"Jazz..." Prowl sighed out, scrubbing at his face. Was he actually thinking it over? Damn that cute look to the pit.

"Pleeeease Prowler! Ah wan't ya ta have a break! Ya've been working nonstop for tha' pas' three days, please?" The saboteurs lip quivered. 

Was he acting? Prowl mused to himself.

He made a good actor.

The way Jazz spoke, the way his hands bobbed before him in a begging manner had the tacticians walls break, he vented hard, dropping his stylus into its respective drawer with much attitude. It must be important for Jazz to reduce himself to begging, fake or not. 

"I'll see what I can do." Prowl monotoned, a small smile spreading on his lips when he saw his friends visor brighten to almost white. Before the black and white could even process what was going on, Jazz leapt from his sitting position and pressed a sloppy, fast kiss to Prowls cheek that left a glob of wetness I it's wake.

"Thank ya Prowler! Ya won't regret it!"

Jazz bounced out of the room, fast as lightning, leaving Prowl to stare at the spot Jazz had been, his jaw slightly agape as his fingers clenched almost unnoticeable, as if trying to hold onto something. His nose curled a little, then he reached up to prod at the wetness Jazz carelessly left on his face.

Did Jazz just?

Shaking his helm, Prowl stood from his chair and shut the door Jazz had left open once again, he walked over to his desk and snagged a tissue from a box, wiping at the offending fluids left on his face, as he tenderly cared to his hygiene needs, prowl could feel his spark eat thumping in his chest, a little faster then normal. And that, my friends, that's when everything hit him. 

A party? That's what the twins were planning?

TBC...


	2. First sips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz and Prowl each have respective thoughts on the event as they prepare themselves for the night ahead. The party begins, only just so; Jazz's hopes are being tested, Prowl is more stubborned then he looks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This is an older work I posted on FF but decided to touch up and share somewhere else. The content within is an alteration of that older work, this version will differ in places from the original piece. Some previous events may change or remain.* 
> 
> Song titles and authors will be displayed at the end. 
> 
> Songs may be cringey.

Jazz left Prowls office with a skip to his step, a blissful smile trapped on his face, getting Prowl to come, Surprisingly, wasn't as hard as the white mech had originally thought. However— Yes, of course, there was always a downfall to the situation.

However, there was still a few options the police mech could take, one, he could call up Jazz and tell him that he was needed elsewhere, two, Prowl could easily forget about the time and work right through the party, and three, the second in command could take the cowards route and stow away somewhere until the night was through.

Jazz would still find him, though, he would spend the entire night looking if he had to. He was good at hide and seek, unbeatable, there was absolutely no place that the winger could hide from him. Jazz would end up finding him eventually, and when he did, he would drag that mech by his door wings into the rec. room, until provided an acceptable excuse. 

Finding himself in a handsomely good mood, Jazz reached up and began fiddling with his audio unit. Music flowed into his audios and clouded his reality. That good mood excelled when some edgy pop music greeted him with a thick and erotic Rhythm, it has him swaying his hips whilst he walked

_Take off your clothes,_  
_Blow out the fire,_  
_Don't be so shy,_  
_You're alright, you're alright._

When he first arrived on earth, Jazz had become a slave almost instantly to the organics music. He'd found a way to mod his audial unit so he could tap into radio stations nearby, simply because he couldn't comprehend how these creatures could attain such a gorgeous frequency. Cybertronians had little talent when it came to vocal music, some could, but Jazz decided personally every artist who had once existed on cybertron paled to a humans capacity to ever shift and bend their flexible voices. Jazz didn't know what he would do without it, it was all so different, so many genres, so many sounds, beats, each one surprisingly unique. It was seductive, unlimited, and all of it, _all of it_ was good. To him at least. 

The third in command knew, should they ever return to cybertron, an entire archive of music was coming with him. No one could, or would stop him. 

Jovially Jazz continued his sexy trot and skip to, well — he didn't quite know where, his processor was skipping, flashing every which direction, too unfocused to choose a location to walk to~ he just wanted to walk, he wanted to burst into dance to quell the swelling excitement balling up in his thumping spark. Jazz was naturally high strung, many things excited him, and when they didn't, it wouldn't stop him from acting positive anyway; he was used to finding the best in every situation. Part of him couldn't actually believe it. Since arriving on earth, parties or 'gatherings.' Were quite frequent, not once had the doorwinger showed up for one, getting a little 'ill see what I can do.' had to be the best response he could get from the other. It caused Jazz to come to a realization; his begging worked on Prowl. Prowl _wasn't_ invincible. 

Jazz smirked, He traced his digits across the hallways wall as he passed, twisting, Jazz kicked out his pedes and pratically glided to the other side, where he pressed his back into the cold metal and and suggestively lowered his way down into a crouch. 

He didn't care if anyone was peeping at him, he was happy. He was hoping to- _Going to_ to see Prowl during his most vulnerable state. 

He pushed off the wall, the song changing into something a bit slower, not that he minded, Jazz's pace quieted, he closed his optics beneath that visor, heading in the general direction of his quarters.

After arriving there, he began tiding things up like a self-conscious maid, even though Prowls half assed invitation didn't exactly mean the saboteurs would be bringing some wings back to his quarters. 

Jazz giggled, a coy smirk playing on his lips, suddenly distracted, the mech sauntered into his private wash racks, walking right to his shower to turn the hot water on, he back up a few paces until he caught his face in the mirror hanging from the wall. He jerked his helm up in greeting to his reflection, then, turned completely towards the mirror, touching different parts of his face as he examined himself.

"Hey Prowler." He drawled sexily to himself, well his mirror self, he sent a dashing grin at his reflection, as well as a blink of his visor in a wink.

"Ya got a bandaid?" He snickered, biting his bottom lip to keep himself from laughing at just how stupid he probably looked, however, that thought didn't hinder the mech from leaning in towards his refective self, flicking his glossia over his lips.

"'Cause ah tripped, Fallin' for ya." A moment of silence, then Jazz glared at his reflection. Tersely he sat up, snapping his fingers once.

He then paused, lips sinking to a line. "Thas' dumb." He confirmed. "Ain't using that. Ta overused." He snorted at himself, wondering what could've compelled him, he turned for the shower, steam overpowering the small room. 

\--  
Prowl leaned against the back of his chair, one pede slowly turning it side to side in a consistent manor. There was that ever present stylus held captive between Prowls digits in one tightly gripped servo, which, was placed against his helm. His elbow was stationed lazily on the arm of the chair. Prowl flicked the stylus against his helm a few pointless times, as if he was attempting to get his processor to up it's speed. 

The mech stared at the monitor before him, which was turned off, black, his own slightly distorted appearance filtered back to him. The second In command frowned at the overworked, tense mess he saw in it's reflection, optics trailed over the wrinkles metal below his lenses, then over his rough silver faceplating. 

He reached up and prodded at a scar which stretched below his lips. He began to think thoughts, negative ones, upon a few more moments of staring at the least-impressive face before him.

Appearances, As long as he was clean, he was happy. That's how it had always been for the Paraxian, he didn't care much for how he looked, he cared even less about how others thought of him. Now, however, Prowl was taking a second look, disappointed with what he'd so consciously ignored. 

He didn't... Look all that great. 

Slowly, Prowls lips lifted up into a small, hardly there smile, attempting to better his appearance. He examined himself with within this forced postion, what he saw back seemed to displeased him, the smile fled and was replaced with a deep frown. 

Something caused the Second to try again, he twiddled the stylus in his hand as he leaned foreword, truly focusing. He lifted one corner of his lips in a lopsided grin, it looked completely unnatural to the tactician, again, the attempted smile disappeared from the mechs face, the frown resurfacing, this time deeper. 

He didn't know who he was trying to impress, if anyone but himself, to say that he could do it. He _could_ smile. Nevertheless the longer he tried the more he remained unconvinced. it either looked down-right ridiculous or forced, did he even have a natural smile? 

Probably, but Prowl had never seen it.

Prowl tried a few more fruitless times, devoting a few minutes of his precious time into trying to perfect his unsettling smile. He could have been finishing up the reports at his front, or, going over Needed Supplies list that was no doubt doubling it's contents each day~ _The Ark_ harbored many a needy mech, who constantly needed new and pointless things. 

His facial features had gone stiff, blank, while his thought processor overcame him. He realized quite suddenly that making faces at his reflection wasn't going to help the fact that he couldn't smile. it did, however, help him see his own pathetic tendencies, Prowls face heated from embarrassment, he averted his gaze to his datapad. 

Door wings slumped in defeat, Prowl sighed, giving up, He leering over his workspace, avoiding optical contact with his monitor, He dropped his pen and let it roll down the incline of his desk. He flicked at it when it nearly touched the bottom, and watched it speed up to the top, thus, gravity enacted and it began tumbling back towards his awaiting digit.

Prowls optics lingered over to the offlined datapad at his side, the stylus flopped over the edge and settled on the floor, beneath his chair. 

He didn't pick it up, only continued his stare down, his body compelling him to reach out and stuff his nasal ridge into his work, He couldn't focus on anything- well, he couldn't focus before, but now it was worse, he lacked his muse, and he was bored.

Yes, Prowl was bored, yes, he could feel that emotion. He had things to occupy him but it was unappealing. Reaching out, Prowl nabbed the datapad and clicked it on, the device booted then a home screen displayed. He looked over the time, wondering just when _exactly_ he had to show up to this officer party.

A scowl set on his face as he willed himself to get up from his chair, a dent had formed on the plush surface in the exact shape of the Tacticians aft plates. He gripped the edge of his desk with both servos, Amazed with his sudden stress levels. What was he to do? How was he to act? Prowl wasn't an infant on the party matter, he was well, _well_ informed on the contents of such matters, breaking them up, setting them up, driving past them. A forced creationday event was somehow always held every vorn on a random date, for Prowl. He held such personal information as his birthday, away from the 'general public.' For his own personal security. 

Didn't stop them though. Jazz always had something organized, he would get Sideswipe to stalk through Prowls work schedule to find that one rare day the second would take off, then break into his office and force him to eat organic slop. It was a Holliday of horror for the secluded mech. Even so, that event was small, usually just Jazz and the Twins, this was a party, a large gathering of warhorses lead by Jazz, who were attempting to shed their sins by drowning themselves in organically comprised engex. Sure, it was an _officer party_ but a party none the less. Why? Why was he participating in such uncivilized, reckless event? 

Prowls vents let out a gust of hot air, he managed to pry his nervously clenched hands from the desk. He looked towards his berth.

Why?

_Because of Jazz._

Mumbling under his breath, Prowl walked steadily to his berth, and sat with his legs hanging off and pedes planted firmly on the floor. Silence enclosed him, his wings rose stiffly behind him. He scrubbed at his face with a servo, the motion sparking sudden urge to submerge himself in scalding water. 

Stress, he hated stress. His duties never caused him so much confliction. He wasn't afraid, it wasn't fear he was feeling. His spark was tumbling around in it's casing, he could hear it's beat strongly in his audios. He remembered the party the Ark set a few months ago, pit, in his quarters, practically on the other side of the ship Prowl could hear the pounding of the base and the vibrations that came with it. He was sensitive to sounds. 

Prowl was no fool, he knew the things that flew like a missile around the Ark about him, the uttered words and mentions of a few, placing him in rank as unemotional, cold-sparked, Stick in the— well, _you get his meaning._

He wanted to prove them wrong, deep down. He never acted on that feeling, Because he knew that he wasn't what they said. As long as his duty to the autobots was being for-filled and everything was going according to plan, the mechs around him could say whatever they wanted to about him.

People liked Jazz, it was an abrupt thought, but it was true, not many ill-natured roumers were about Jazz, simply because the 'bot was so likable. Prowl would never say it aloud, but sometimes. Sometimes, he wanted to be like Jazz. 

He was unpredictable, untamed, deadly on the field, but a good friend, a high strung mech with great optimism and excellent communications skill, something, Prowl admittedly had little of. He was someone you could trust your life with on a mission, not on a mission, wherever. And that mech, had kissed him.

Jazz had kissed him. 

Small and sloppy, but it was there. 

The mech could only wonder as to why Jazz would show any interest in a 'bot with so little traits. Surely, there would be a more vibrant Cybertron around that could compliment his personality better? Though it came to question, having observed so little of Jazz's social interactions outside the occasional rec room bump-in, was 'kissing of the cheek.' So to speak, just a gesture that Jazz had developed as gratitude? He'd never displayed It before, he'd known the third long enough to find his quirks, that wasn't it. 

Prowl vented, scrubbing his face with his hands as he leaned foreword. Primus, why was that mech so difficult?

What had Prowl possibly done to attract Jazz's attention? Prowls last relationship lasted mere days, connecting was something the police mech couldn't do very well. He preferred working, to pretty much everything, especially relationships. He didn't treat Jazz any different then the others, sometimes he was soft on him, softer then he would be to say, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe? But that was because...

It was because... Well, because Prowl liked Jazz. Being around the mech inspired him, watching him interact, careless, like a war wasn't nipping at their pedes.

Prowl cared about every soldier that was on the ark, even if he didn't show it, he didn't only use his skillful tactics to bring up the best plan for the Autobots going into battle, but he did it for the best possible survival rate as well, because he didn't want to see a 'bot offlined.

It was the reason why he worked so hard, and so long, because he had to think through his plans, check them, double check them, edit them, to make sure that whatever situation he was putting his comrades in, they would make it out alive.

It was because he cared, but since he never showed it, what was there to believe? It was his way of thanking the mechs for fighting for the Autobots cause.

Prowl triple checked Jazz's missions, not only because of some their severity, but to make sure the bot was safe on simple patrols, he'd even altered a highway route so Jazz could drive past a festival of sorts, for the thirds own enjoyment.

Prowl was impressed, more then words could explain, Jazz wormed his way easily into every Autobots sparks. And dare he say it, Jazz had found found a small opening to his own cold spark.

He wanted to impress him, he wanted to show the popular bot that yes, he had emotions, and no, he didn't only think about work, was this his chance at redemption? Would this be the night he could finally break apart the roumers? Proving to everybot, especially Jazz, that he was 'more then he lets on' So to speak?

What if something went wrong? What if he messed up somehow? Would Jazz think him any different?

Why were his thoughts continuing to go back to Jazz! It was irritating, and at the same time... Not so much. Jazz made up almost fifty precent of what the tactician thought of throughout the day, why? He just didn't get it... He didn't like it, he wasn't used to it.

Never in his life had someone been quite literally, stuck on his mind like Jazz was.

With a simple, unconvincing shrug Prowl muttered something irritatedly to himself, while He forced himself up once again, his door wings sagging behind him as he paced around his little office for a few moments

As the seconds ticked by, he just knew he couldn't take it any longer.

His door wings twitched once with annoyance. he pushed himself to actually _do_ something besides pace around and wait for the sun to go down.

With a vent, Prowl headed for his private wash rack.

\--

He could feel the vibrations rivet throughout the hallway as he marched closer to the rec. room, his steps were a bit too fast, door wings held a bit too high, however it was as relaxed as the mech could get, being so out of his element. He was nervous, oh he was, but he refused to show it outwardly. He almost hadn't show up, nearly locking himself in the wash racks. Though, sooner rather then later the second realized Jazz wouldn't tolerate his petty anxieties. 

"Prowl?" The voice behind startled him, His wings jolted up, and he spun on his heel. His strained blue optics locked on the larger form of his leader. Prowl straightened, and quickly dipped his helm in greeting.

"Prime." Prowl acknowledged. Optimus tilted his helm, then giving the police mech a slow nod in return. "This is the last place I would expect you." Optimus said lightly, his faceplate slid back, showing Prowl his small, growing frown. 

"Yeah." Prowl said, servo reaching up to rub at his aching neckwires. A hand slowly moved rest on the uneasy paraxians shoulder. His leader was shyly tense, but calm and collected as ever. 

"Are you alright, Prowl?" Optimus asked, slightly concerned with his seconds strange behavior, Prowl pursed his lips, he nodded, tightly. "I'm well."  
So easily Optimus could see his nerves as if they were a splash of energon on a black canvas, Was he _really_ that readable? Or was Optimus a psychologist in his spare orns?

They shared a moment of silence, standing outside automatic doors, neither said a word which made it all the more unpleasant for the slightly squirming Prowl. At least Optimus refrained from staring at him.  
"Alright, I'm going in now." Optimus informed the mech, gesturing to the door. "Ah." A pause. "Right." Prowl answered, taking a few steps back to allow his leader to pass. Optimus did, he stopped just before the sensor. "Are you coming?" He asked, his voice slightly amused when Prowl didn't budge.

"I'll be in." Prowl promised, pedes stuck to the floor. His wings were stiff, shoulders risen just a hair, an out of place look to his face. Optimus forced himself to look compliant.

"It's a relief to see you socializing, Prowl." Optimus said, giving a warm smile. "Take your time."  
With that Optimus stepped foreword an inch and the automatic doors slid apart, the vibrations morphed into actual sounds that barreled its way from the now open portal and into Prowl, forcing the mech to take a step back. 

_I see you over there, so hypnotic._  
_Thinking 'bout what id do to that body,_  
_Id get it like oooh baby baby_  
_oooh baby baby_

Prowl frowned.  
Trying to process the human words he'd just heard. The second didn't minded the sounds but when it came down to buisness, he preferred absolute silence. It was rare to catch the tactician with a tune in the backround, the doors slid shut and clicked, greatly muting the offending sound, back down into a dull pede tingling thump, the lyrics were lost within the base.

Prowl cringed.

A few moments went by, Prowl finally managed to ween his pedes into lifting from their spot, glancing down the hallways he began shifting back and fourth upon finding no immediate witnesses. 

_Just walk foreword_

Prowl pitched foreword, moving several steps, before he could reach the sensors range, he backed off, to growl at himself, and the Internal battle being fought inside him. 

He took a long vent then offlined his optics, the SIC pinched the bridge of his nasalridge, Trying to shut his inner self up, trying to calm his raging and fluttering spark. Looking up, he gazed down the hallway with an already tired look on his face, back where he arrived from. 

"You going to go in or just stand there blocking everyone?" Ratchet grunted from behind him, Prowl barley heard the mech over the thumping but the sudden grouch alerted him, he turned, eyeing the medic with careful and momentarily defensive optics. Wheeljack was standing beside Ratchet, leaning against the medics smaller frame, said mech waved cheerily at Prowl, mouth hidden beneath the round mask.

Prowl dipped his helm back, flicking his wings in dismissal as he turned back towards the door. "Of course I'm going in." He said distantly, pressing foreword with a little difficulty, the doors slid open, Prowl peeked in, seeing the swath of autobot bodies, a merge of colors and movements. 

_Now relax and get on your back,_  
_If you wanna scream YEAH,_  
_Let me know and I'll take you there_

Prowl pressed back again, earning a laugh from Wheeljack at the action, his fins flashed, Prowls faceplates heated, he simply gestured before ahead to mask his growing embarrassment. 

"You may go first." Prowl stated, once again Prowl was assaulted by the music, this time though, it didn't cut out as they passed, because Wheeljack had his servo pressed to the edge, stopping it from closing, holding the door open for him.

"Coming?" Encouraged the inventor, Prowl sighed, He pushed himself he strode foreword and through the open portal after Wheeljack.

As soon as Prowl stepped through the music seamed to spread out, and he had to admit, it didn't sound to loud anymore, almost immediately Prowls optics sought out the one mech who was the reason he came. The reason he had to endure the audial torture. 

Prowl was well aware of the optics watching him awkwardly stand by himself, he chose to ignored the wondering, curious lenses, already used to such treatment. Quietly he searched until his optics landed on the firmillar form that was Jazz.

The saboteur was weaving around to the song, handing cubes to different Autobots smoothly as he passed them, at almost the same exact moment, Jazz's visor met Prowls optics, the white mech smirked, sliding his way over to the door winger.

"Here ya go mech." Jazz said cutely, pushing a cube of high grade into Prowls hand, Prowl looked at the cube, seeming lost for words, but nodded his thanks anyway, just as fast as Jazz arrived, he was gone, off dishing out more cubes to those who were empty handed.

The music was gone now, Prowl realized, his optics lingered around the rec. room, they landed on the red form of Sideswipe- the reason for this party in the first place, no doubt, as the mech put a hand to the stage and kicked himself onto it, Blaster was already there, waiting for the mech to appear, he handed the red twin a microphone.

Sideswipe tapped it twice.

"Helllooooo mechs!" the front liner drawled into the microphone, with a smirk, his ego pleased with the silence that followed his statement, Sideswipe continued. "Now, Before I begin, i'd like to say first hand that this party IS approved by Optimus himself! This is an officer party where we recognize the officers." He glared at a security camera knowing Red Alert was stalking somewhere behind a computer screen. "It's legit." Sideswipe clarified, he then waved his hand, further dismissing the subject.

"Since most of us have already arrived, I'll get right to it." He cleared his throat. "In our vorns of war, we find days where a pinch of light breaks through the foggy darkness." He began pacing the stage at a sturdy pace. His voice entering a poetic tone. Somewhere, leaned against a wall, Sunstreaker rolled his optics. 

"During this rare moment of time, we are gifted a chance by Primus himself to enjoy the lives we could lose at any moment. We are still here, our strength and determination is proof alone that every once in a while, WE CAN STILL TURNUP!" 

Cliffjumper screamed out his agreement, causing a wave of voices amongst the present Autobots. Optimus himself, who was situated in the back, lifted his glass up with his optics scrunched in such a way that one would know for certain he was smiling. Prowl had been the only one to stay silent, as he inched ever closer to the table Jazz was currently near.

Sideswipe allowed them to settle. "However this party isn't just about getting wild. It's for the patient warriors who help our sorry afts get from point A to B. THE OFFICERS!"

Once again a round of cheers erupted from the mass of earthbound Autobot. out of the corner of his optics, Prowl saw Jazz banging his fists against a table with wild vigor, adding to the incoherent mass of sound.

Prowl frowned. 

_How mature._

"Please, raise your cube for, our very own, awesome, generous leader! OPTIMUS PRIME!"

Prowl he raised his cube in the air, following the others as they gave their voices to Optimus.  
"Our Second in command, Prowl!"  
All optics were on him as they lowered their cubes only to rase them again to cheer for Prowl, said mech just stood still, Optics on Jazz who gave a flashy smile, a wink of his visor. He went slightly ridgid. 

How Long did he have to stay? 

"The CUTEST couple on the ark, WHEELJACK AND RATCHET!"

The cheers were louder this time, cat-calls could be heard as well. Ratchet, who was standing by the door grumbled something as he dully lifted his cube into the air, his grumble was cut off, however, by a happy Wheeljack planting a kiss right on the CMO's lips, causing a few immature 'oooooo's' to rocket from the onlookers, mainly Jazz.

"And last but certainly not least, our favorite saboteur, third In command, JAZZ!"

Prowl once again wished he was Jazz, simply because the Autobots seemed to scream for the mech, Jazz stood up, Bowed a few times, blowing kisses to the others' their optics met, in which, Jazz gave a long, somewhat cute pucker of his lips.

"I'm pretty sure there's others but I can't remeber right now!" Sideswipe called out happily. "To whoever else! Till all are one!"

"Till all are one!" The room mirrored, some clinging cubes together, taking a sip of their grade. Prowl looked down at his drink, unimpressed.

Blaster clapped as Sideswipe jumped fully off the stage, landing on his pedes as he tossed his hands into the air, There was a second of silence, and then...

_ALL ABOARD! HAHAHA!_

A tick drum beat came on... 

_Dun dun, dun dun, dun dun, dun dun..._

_AYE AYE AYE!_

Prowl vented as the music basically deafened him. He grunted, irritation showing in the flicks of his wings, he swirled his cube absently in his servo as he looked around. Well, this was... Great?

"PROWL! Over here!" Jazz's voice somehow managed to make its way to Prowls Audios over the music, his door wings twitched smally at being called, he looked to the table where Jazz was sitting, Wheeljack sitting next to him. Smokescreen beside Wheeljack. Prowl looked to the side of him, he could have sworn the inventor was over there with Ratchet just a second ago.

Shrugging mentally, Prowl slowly made his way to Jazz's table, the cube of high grade held by both his servos to avoid spilling, once in reach, Jazz grinned, patting the seat beside him for the second in command to join him. 

Prowl was inwardly happy to take the seat, but instead of showing it, he gave the saboteur a disapproving look at his pedes kicked up on the table.

"Where did Ratchet go?" Prowl queried absently, setting his cube down on the table, Wheeljacks fins lit up at the mention of his mate, he gestured to the door.

"Left, he isn't one for partying." Prowl made a sound of agreement, even though, truly, Prowl wasn't one for parting either.

"Prowl ain't either, but 'ere he is!" Jazz voiced Prowls thoughts, dipping his helm towards the door winger. Smokescreen, who Prowl just remembered was there, leaned over the table.

"So he is, who convinced you Prowl?" Prowl scowled pointing a finger lazily at Jazz.

"Who do you think?" He asked a bit sarcastically, Jazz, for his part, simply grinned and rocked his helm back and forth, not afraid to prove Prowl right.

Smokescreen chuckled lowly, leaning back against the table as he drank his Highgrade, Prowl looked down at his own cube, having taken not a single sip, it looked tempting, sure, but he wasn't ready to drink altered engex when he hadn't even tasted the real kind.  
Jazz for his part, was watching the door winger with critical optics beneath his visor, studying every move the Paraxian made, each unnoticed twitch of his door wings. His gaze followed to the cube the black and white mech was staring at, Jazz smiled.

"Don' be 'fraid, Prowlie, ya high grade ain't gonna bite ya." Jazz told him, Prowl looked up to the saboteur, his lips set in a firm line, Jazz sighed, That unemotional terse line, He would have to change that soon. 

"I do not drink." Prowl replied, Jazz's  
Jaw fixed in surpise "Ya don't drink." Jazz retorted almost mockingly, he leaned in towards the Paraxian who didn't flinch, but simply pushed the cube slightly away from his frame. Showing Jazz that clearly, he couldn't force him. 

"I have never finished an entire cube of high grade before. The long-term risks I would have could-" 

"Mech..." Jazz interrupted, pushing the SICs abandoned cube back towards the Paraxian, In a disapproving tone, Jazz said lowly, leaning closer to Prowl.

"Tha's gotta change, Prowler." A short gust of air exhaled from the Paraxians vents as the mech slowly reached out to take the cube, only to look down at it and frown, wondering why he picked it up. It was almost an instinct to obey that voice, he looked at the blue visor, suspicious. 

"Come on Prowl, enjoy it! Its a break!" Wheeljack chimed in, breaking the momentary staring contest. He raised his cube to the hesitant mech who looked unamused. 

"Parties for you too, ya know." Smokescreen drawled, Wheeljack tipped his cube in Smokescreens direction. They casually tapped their glasses together and took a sturdy gulp. 

Prowl watched them, narrowed optics.

"I know what this is." He said, dauntingly.  
" _Oh?_ " Wheeljack pressed.   
"This is peer pressure." Smokescreen snorted at the seconds remark.  
"Were not in grade school anymore, Prowlie." The glare sent his way, weaponized, could have melted his processor to sludge. 

" _Hey._ " Jazz cut in abruptly, Smokescreen straightened. "Tha' Names ain't necessary." Smokescreens knowing smirk went completely over Prowls red chevron. "Right, Sorry." He relaxed back, Wheeljack thoroughly enjoying the free entertainment. 

_A dubstep song began playing, Prowls door wings twitched at it. Dubstep at an officers party.  
_Yeaaaah....__

_Smokescreen began a common conversation with Wheeljack, one that Prowl himself had no comment on. They seamed to have dropped the drinking issue all together, Prowl relaxed a little, he tipped to the side to get a look at the tables behind him, setting an arm across the back of his seat. He knew each Autobots name, and there were quite a few here~ but amongst the casual chaos and ambiance, the door winger found it hard to focus on a single one._

He was lost in thought a moment, optics tracing the edge of the stage where a small group lingered HotRod stood on the floor below them, laughing at something one had said. Blue flashed in the corner of his vision, without moving his helm he looked to the source of the light. 

_And caught Jazz staring._

_Jazz gave an innocent grin._

"Why?" Prowl asked timidly. 

_"Why wha'?" Purred the saboteur._

"Why are you staring at me?" 

Music took over the conversation, Jazz's bottom lip lifted while he thought, it didn't take him long to come up with something. "It's interestin' ya face. It's nice ta look at. Ah didn't mean ta linger." Prowl didn't know what to make of the compliment, but it made him feel a bit lighter inside. The corner of his mouth twitched- but that was it. 

With a boost of confidence, Prowl reached out and firmly took the cube. Without looking to witness Jazz leer foreword, he raises the glass to his lips and took a small sip. 

He sat it down lightly. 

"See? Tha wasn't so bad?" Jazz gave the police mech a warm smile, Prowls wings flicked. 

"No. It was not bad." Prowl replied, the lingering, almost sweet aftertaste made Prowl want to take a second sip, but he didn't know if he was ready.

Ready or not, here Jazz comes. 

"Now how 'bout another one, yeah?" Jazz pressed, his tone pleading as he leaned in and poked Prowls sat down cube. Prowl stared at the mech, with a plain look on his face plates. 

Smokescreen left without a word, Wheeljack following closely behind, they left their emptied canisters on the table, doubtless if they'd really come back to clean it up, neither 'bots cared much for their sudden leave. They were both too busy staring heatedly into the others optics/visor having some sort of internal battle only they could understand. 

Two songs passed by before another word was shared. With a flick of his door wings, Prowl grumbled. "Fine." He said tersely, he then added quickly. "But just one more, and no more. For now." 

Jazz chuckled darkly, giving the Paraxian a very unconvincing nod. 

"Sure Prowler, For now." Prowl cocked an optic ridge at the tone, but brushed it off, once again the mech lifted the cube to his lips. 

"Ya gatta take a big gulp, Kay? Jus' stuff it all in ya throat, catch me?" Jazz shot in, swinging his legs over to the side of his chair, leaning in with his elbows on his knees, hands rested on the side of his helm. He watched the Second in command intensely. 

" _Ya gatta take a big gulp, Kay?_ " Prowl mocked in a mutter, rolling his optics, acing the Jazz accent test, performing it damn near perfectly Jazz heard the whisper, he wasn't offended, the carefree mech let out a bark of a laugh. 

Prowl shot the mech one last look before he pressed the cube to his lips and and tilted his head back a bit. He gulped down the engex, wincing when it burned, all the way down to his tanks. 

_This was going to be a long night._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs
> 
> Imany- don't be so shy. 
> 
> Usher- Scream. 
> 
> Ozzy ozborne- Crazy Train. 
> 
> Mentioned dubstep song)-Ablaze-No Swords.


	3. Climax

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song names at the end of the chapter.
> 
> If you have any kind of feedback, it's appreciated! 
> 
> Please PLEASE forgive me for the paragraph mash at the end, when posting the chapter, it mattered not how many spaces I put in between~ when it saved, it was still mashed. There's only a certian amount of redoing a 9,000 word document before a girl goes crazy~

The cold, pale pink liquid slid down Prowls throat, acting as a medicine to soothe his inner workings. He'd hardly noticed the few extra gulps he'd taken, while savoring the honeyed sweet flavor, until he finally willed himself to pull the cube away and take notice of it's contents.

It was nearly empty, nothing but a spare sip left. Beside him, Jazz let out a grunt of amazement, he slapped a palm against the table, then reached out to yank the cube from his friends unsuspecting digits.

"Damn mech." Jazz swirled the engex about, then took it upon himself to finish off the rest of it, even though he had his own refreshment on the table, inches away from his headlights. Prowls wings flicked with mild annoyance, after a moment he calmed; he was somewhat satisfied, the high grade wasn't personally paid for by him.

If it had been, The second in command wouldn't have let it go as quickly as he did. He would've had a problem with it. "It does have a rather nice taste." Prowl defended, seaming to need an excuse for drinking more then he'd intended.

Jazz had no qualm with this, he angled himself over the tabletop so he could stack Prowls empty cube with the two others. The doorwinger watched the saboteurs cock his helm back and swallow a _full_ cube in little less then a click. He let out a burp of static, adding his own onto the pile. "Ah'll be back, Kay? Ya want another?"

Prowl sat back, watching his friend stand with calculating optics. At least he was cleaning up. "If I said no, you'd bring one anyway." Prowl pointed out, Jazz simply beamed, He wasn't wrong, he really wasn't wrong. That's exactly what had been planning out in the Jazz's processor.

"Jeez." Jazz muttered, lightly amused, after a moment of thought, he added. "S' kinda creepy how well ya know meh." His friends expression changed, for the first time that night, Prowl was smiling, it was petite, and had devilish glint to it, but it was there, it was... Something, at the very least.

"I've known you most my life. " Prowl absently prodded a notch in the table, feeling it's sharp wooden edge. A small part of him prized the pleasing clash of auburn swirls. "I'm observant." He continued. "I'm organized, I keep data files, and I update them." He paused, Jazz was still standing with the empty cubes in his arms, the cool glass shifting every time he moved.

He was watching Prowl with kind optics beneath his visor, he found it flattering. "Awh." Jazz spoke up within that pause, bringing hault whatever Prowl was going to next. "Ya write books 'bout meh?"

" _No_." Prowl snapped, he lifted his servo up to rub his neck, he ended up unintentionally striking his knuckles against the tables scuffed edge. Prowl hissed, wagging the pain from his digits, his grey faceplates darkened. He spoke up before Jazz could comment. " _Files_. Not books." The sting ebbed away. "The archives on Cybertron are otherwise lost to us, until teletraan can be retrieved. I take it upon myself to detail both Autobots and Decepticons, in my spare clicks, for historical and future purposes." He clarified, Jazz shuffled, growing slightly impatient with just standing there.

He wanted to stay and chat, but his throat was dry, and he wanted to get rid of the empty canisters in his arms in favor of full ones. Besides, as much as he liked the doorwinger, Jazz didn't really want to hear about Cybertrons archives.

"Hol' tha' thought." Interrupted Jazz, he couldn't hold out his servo, so he held out his elbow covers instead. "Jus' ten kliks, ten kliks." Jazz turned and whisked away, Prowl held his museing, loosing track of the small grey frame, within the distraction of the masses.

Jazz slid up to the engex filter that attached to the wall above a few fancy looking tables. There was a disposal area for emptied cubes, and stacks of fresh clean ones beside each high grade nob. Jazz snagged two cubes, an began filling one, it wasn't long before he felt the presence of another.

"How's project impossible going?" Sideswipe asked, he was at the nob alongside the saboteurs, filling his own cube. Jazz meh'd, shoulder plates flopping. "He seamed ta like tha taste, drank some, not 'nough fer a lightweight ta feel it, thoe. But he's drinkin, ah'm proud'a my Prowler." Sideswipe smirked, looking over the dispenser he was using. While Jazz casted a glance behind him, unable to see the doorwinger. First one full, he filled the other.

"Is that why your going for the strong one?" Quarried the red twin, poking a digit into Jazz's cube while the white mech wasn't looking. He gave it a taste, frowning as he tonged the grade around, Sideswipe promptly dumped his own cube down the disposal, and began filling it with the stronger engex after Jazz had finished.

"Yeeeep." The saboteur sang, he gripped both cubes with sturdy servos, the pink tint was darker, and had less of a glow. "Turn sommem slow on fer meh?" Jazz asked of the twin. "Ah'm thinkin' after 'e downs this, ah can get'im ta dance." Sideswipe rose an optic ridge, already approving, without another word the lambo took off and jogged up to the stage, waving through the other Autobots.

Jazz began back over to Prowl, once he reached him, Jazz handed the patiently awaiting mech his drink. Prowl took the offered engex calmly, then noticed right away that it was a different grade.

The music took a slower turn, playing some soft electronic tune. Prowl could to decide wether or not he should point it out. After a moment, he chose not to. It was silent between the two of them while they sat there together, just relaxing in each others fields,

Prowl took a sip, Jazz noticed, and mirrored the action. "Music without vocals." Prowl began, his voice rising to combat the beat. "Much easier to listen to." Jazz pulled a face, obviously not agreeing with his opinion, Prowl simply didn't care, and ignored his disapproving look.

With a little grunt, Jazz sat back. "Ah mean, sure." He drawled, finishing it there, watching from the corner of his optic, while his friend and longtime crush began taking careful sips of his grade. Prowl didn't respond to this, he seamed to actually be listening to the music, his helm tilted just a tiny bit to the left, towards the closest speaker.

Behind him, his wings began to relax, sagging down his back, lightly brushing against the back of his chair.

"Ah found'a gecko this mornin'." Jazz informed the other, making timid conversation with the otherwise preoccupied tactician. Had Prowl been unable to show up; Jazz would still be bouncing around, entertaining the mechs and femmes. He did not want to sit in silence. The doorwingers optics recalibrated a moment, he had to momentarily remind himself what a gecko was.

"Is that right?" Prowl endulged, his fear of the grade virtually vanished after the first cube, he was no longer tense when he tilted the icy cool glass to his lips, he no longer cared for Jazz's judgmental gawking, or prodding on the matter.

"Yeah mech, tiny, scaly armor, big ole' optics. Scurryin' around lickin' at tha' sand. Ah tried ta grab it but it was way too lil' nearly killed tha' thing." Jazz frowned a little, Prowl nodded to his words, staring off at the stage, Hotrod decided he wanted to occupy it, crawling onto it, he began cultivating a small cult of awkward tipsy mecha. Blaster closed the curtain to his side booth.

Jazz wanted those optics on him.

"Well the creature was fortunate to have survived your gripping." Prowl finally said, while turning to address his friend, who had yet to take his visor from the SIC's frame. Jazz smiled, and Prowl returned it, door wings puckering lightly. There was a red light shining from somewhere above, it splashed off Jazz's frame, tinting him evil. It was kind of hot.

His face heated at the thought. He took a large sip to mask his sudden anxiousness. Previous events had him nervous, it showed, though his ticks were unbeknownst to Prowl himself. He suddenly became well aware of the look Jazz was giving him, the way his visor flickered ever so smally when they addressed eachother. He had to ask, why left things unsaid?

"What was that about earlier?" Prowl blurted out, averting his optics. "Wha'?" Jazz replied, his helm cocked to the side, trying to grasp his friends meaning. "Gotta get more'en'at." Jazz encouraged, though, deep down he already knew what it was about. He just wanted to hear Prowl say it. Prowl huffed a bit

"You kissed my cheek and left your slime." Not... Exactly what he was expecting. Jazz had to stop and think about his next move.

"Ah was claimin' ya." He answered, Matter-of-factly. "Claiming me?" Prowl bucked back a bit, surprised by the remark. "I own myself, thank you." He retorted defensively, wings flaring upwards.

"Nah." Jazz moved to straddle the back of his chair, pede propped up on a lower bar, bouncing to the soft beat. He had to do this more often. Prowl was so cute angry.  

"Yah." Prowl finalized, ending the line with a long gulp, finishing his second cube. He felt a bit more at ease with the passing awkwardness, Jazz waited, patiently, visor staring off. Prowl toyed with the thought of being claimed by the mecha, it wasn't exactly a damned thought, though it was strange, primal, not exactly his... Style of relationship.

Pulling himself from his musings, Prowl glared at the tabletop, he wasn't good at confrontation. He plucked at the exposed wooding, flicking it off onto the floor when bits came off.

"Should I conclude that you are interested in me, then? Based off your behavior?" Prowl questioned, optics still averted. Jazz's look turned soft, his spark thumped in response, loving how he looked, when he was shy.

"Ah'd court ya." He said with a shrug. Smirking a little at the way his wings wiggled at the mention, and the carefree way he'd expressed it.

"You would?" Asked Prowl.

_'What day is it? And in what month?_

_This clock never seemed so alive.'_

Jazz's audios perked up at the song, one he knew well. He paused with his question to see Sideswipe, giving him a thumbs up from beside Blaster, who was trying not to look irritated with being told what to do. Jazz scanned the others features before reaching out to grab the doorwinger fidgeting servo with his own, Jazz had to brush some wooden flakes from the paraxians tight grip. It had been a rather compulsive move.

Prowl didn't know how to react, he frowned, but didn't pull away, His spark was swelling, suddenly, he was looking at his long time companion in a different light. No, not just the red light.

' _I can't keep up and I can't back down, I've been losing, so much time.'_

"Ah mean wha' ah say." He confirmed, tracing the back of Prowls servo with his thumb, he was staring down at the clasped servos, his throat tightening, after vorns of keeping it in, What he'd been wanting to say since Prowl had first turned his back to him, and dismissed him with those door wings. It was... Actually coming out.

"Ah ain't puttin' no false thoughts. Ah'd date ya. Ah'd court ya. Anythin', I gotcha. Even if it wha' it is ain't nothin'" Prowl stiffened, a strange feeling surging through him.

How could he even respond to something like that?

' _Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do, nothing to lose,_

_And it's you and me and all of the people, And I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you.'_

He stood up, keeping a strong hold of Prowls dazed hand. With little force he managed to tug the second up, Prowl made a sound, startled by the sudden lift, momentarily unable to find his pedes, tipsiness dancing along the sides of his vison, he tripped foreword lightly, but caught himself before he could collide with Jazz's smaller frame.

He'd barely recuperated, his grey faceplates darkened, flushed. He came to terms quite suddenly with the fact that he was starting to feel something, a small glitch of his coordination, a little tingle in his pedes, growing excitement in his spark.

When... Was the last time he'd been excited?

"Dance with me Prowler." Jazz asked smoothly, his words coming out clear, the deepness to his tone had Prowls wings twitching again, and his optics snapping up. Jazz pulled him in, flush against his chassis, his arms enclosed around the police mech, securing him. Prowl vented, such close contact having been obscure to the mech for so long, too long. "Ya wanna?"

' _All of the things that I want to say just aren't coming out right'_

It didn't take long for Prowl to think it over. "Alright."

_'I'm tripping on words, You got my head spinning I don't know where to go from here.'_

Jazz lead prowl out into the swaying group, joining several couples, and encouraging a few more to slip out into the action. They stopped, off to the side, and Prowl was thankful for the placement. Jazz positioned Prowls hands for him, stationing them just above the smaller mechs waist.

His grip was tense, figity, unsure where exactly was appropriate to touch. Jazz snorted at this, but didn't make fun of him, like he would have, during a less sensitive situation. Jazz's arms slid around his neck, and the distance between them lessened.

Jazz began moving, swaying, an easy movement for a Prowl to copy.

' _'Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do, nothing to prove,_

_And it's you and me and all of the people, And I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you.'_

Prowl was breathless, his legs threatening to break beneath him, his spark was a mess of emotions, things he had never felt before, even with his previous mates. Jazz played unconsciously with the wiring at the base of the back of Prowls neck, softly petting them, calming the Seconds little trembles.

The sparkling of the Thirds' visor enhanced the tightness in Prowls tanks. Why hadn't he noticed? How long had this been an option? They'd known each other forever, why was it coming out now?

Was it the high grade?

Jazz pulled him close, chassis to chassis, warmpth from the other flooded him, Prowls vents hitched, thoughts vanishing. "I don't dance." Prowl told him, his vocals shallow and soft. Jazz's look brightened, he gave a charming grin. The white mech from Polyhex leaned in close, with no hesitation. Their forehelms brushed, but never touched.

"Ya don't dance?" Jazz questioned, using almost the exact same accusatory tone as earlier. Prowls response came in the form of a brisk shake to his helm, he already felt embarrassed. He was a tactician for Primus sake, this was a war.

Why was he dancing?

He probably looked like a fraggin' idiot.

Jazz chuckled softly, a sound that the tactician heard a thousand times before, but never in this context, it made it that much more of a pleasing sound to listen to. Prowl looked so out of place, so tense, so stiff. To Jazz, it was the greatest sight, and a memory he knew would replay later on.

"Let meh teach ya."

_'Something about you now, I can't quite figure out._

_Everything she does is beautiful,_

_Everything she does is right...'_

The walls blurred, vanished from both of their minds as they moved as one, Jazz laid his helm down against Prowls chassis, and in return, the SICs servos moved up to the saboteurs backstruts, feeling the delicate pattern of his seams.

_'Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do, nothing to lose,_

_And it's you and me and all of the people.'_

Prowl offlined his optics, allowing himself to relax, his wings deflated behind him, he laid his cheek between the Polyhexan's helmstubs. Within the heat of the moment, the police mech placed a kiss between the stubs. Jazz shifted in his arms.

 _'And I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you. Cause its you And me and all of the people with nothing to do and nothing to prove._ '

Jazz leaned up, studying the others face as the song slowly drew to a close. He grabbed Prowls chin rubbing the metal patch at it's tip.

"Ah'm'a kiss ya, alright?" Jazz asked for approval, He leaned foreword, and got what he wanted, Prowl had been the one to close the distance this time. Their lips eagerly connected, the doorwinger shivered, melting into the foreign feeling. Jazz's visor brightened, pure white, though beneath, his optics were offline.

_'And it's you and me and all of the people,_

_And I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you.'_

The music stopped, but the two mechs didn't, they remained lost in eachothers gaze, ambiance chatter was more distinct now, within that blip of silence. Jazz stopped his sway, then leaned up to smile a Prowl.

A burst of sound, The music took a rather violent turn. Their tender, flustered moment was ripped apart by the banging of drums, the guitar sprang out with a catchy rift, Prowl pulled back abruptly, face scrunching. A speaker sat on it's side meters away from them, an empty cube settled atop it, it rattled from the force.

_'Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ow!'_

The lyrics screamed at him, Jazz had to trot off after the mech when Prowl practically dove for a quieter spot. Before he could retreat to the table, Prowl caught a glimpse of red from the side, Sideswipe was gaining on them, his steps stomping with purpose

_Come inside and be afraid,_

_Of this impressive mess I've made,_

_If you take a look now you will find.'_

He didn't even get to sit.

Hey guys!" Sideswipe greated, he threw a heavy arm around Prowls shoulders, dedicating most of his weight to the sturdier mech. prowl fought to stay upward at the awkward embrace.

"Sup Sides?" Jazz spoke up, peeling sideswipe off his dear Prowl, the red twin managed to grasp gravity, and afterwords, stood perfectly fine on his own.

"Ironhide wants games. Everyone's insisting you two take part." Sideswipe informed, jerking a thumb back, where Ironhide and Sunstreaker were dragging a table into position.

_'Please let me out...'_

Prowl stiffened.

' _Please let me out...'_

Jazz grinned.

' _Please let me!'_

"Were doing this." Jazz told Prowl, leaving no room for protest, he snagged the tacticians wrist; in a way that no other mech dared to. "What if I don't want to." Insisted Prowl.

"Nah, ya wanna, c'mon, ya ain't gotta do it again." Jazz begged, adding a cherry ontop by kissing the back of Prowls servo. "You are irritating and persistent." Prowl muttered whilst Jazz clasped both Prowls wrists with each hand, he began walking back words after Sideswipe, Prowl wanted to scoff at the mech that was basically dragging him to the table. Jazz shrugged at his comment.

_'Branded like an animal! I can still feel the burning in my mind._

_I do believe that you made your message clear.'_

"Thas' wha' Ere'y bot says 'bout me." The saboteur grinned sassily at Prowl, letting lose of his left wrist, but keeping a tight hold of the right one with a skip to his step, Jazz spun around just in time to stop dead before he ran into the table.

_'Are those words of condemnation that I hear?'_

Sideswipe was standing before that same table, four cups of high grade lined up on each side, standing beside the red twin, was his one and only brother, looking smug, but incredibly bored, stationed on the other side of the table was Ironhide, Smokescreen, Inferno and Cliffjumper, all looking ready for just about anything.

_'I think I'm losin' my mind,_

_I think I'm losin' my!'_

"What we playin'?" Jazz quarried, tugging Prowl to join Sideswipes side, Prowl grumbled something incoherently under his breath, their hands were still interlocked, nether one thinking to pull away just yet.

"We're playing flip cube, ya know the rules?" Sideswipe began, casting a glance to Prowl. "O' course." Jazz answered quickly, he knew just about every drinking game out there, even human ones.

"Wasn't talking to you, talking to Prowl." Said Paraxians door wings flared up, before they sagged a bit. He realized that no, he didn't know how to play. "I'm afraid I do not." Prowl told the red twin, hiding the slight shame within his spark, it seemed everyone knew it, but of course, Prowl didn't drink, so how would he know? He didn't associate much with mechs on this subject, not since his rather boring academy days.

"Well," Sideswipe drawled, sounding a bit annoyed that he would have to explain it, after a moment of rolling his glossia about his mouth, Sideswipe realized he shouldn't be annoyed; he was explaining to Prowl the rules of a drinking game. "We've already separated the teams into two. Sunny, me, Jazz, and you on the right side." He pointed to each mech while he explained.

"Ironhide, Inferno, Smokescreen, and Cliffjumper on the other. Now, the goal of this game is to have your team finish their high grade before the other. It's a simple competition and as easy as it gets." Sideswipe paused, giving Prowl a pointed look, The enforcer ticked his glossia somewhat silently against the roof of his mouth.

"So this is a game of speed?" Prowl asked, sounding unimpressed Sideswipe nodded with a grin. "Good thing ya catch on fast. Now, Bluestreak here." Sideswipe gestured gracefully to a teetering Bluestreak, who lifted up a large whistle, twirling it between his fingers like a professional referee. "Is going to be the starter, and ender when he blows the whistle, both teams will race to chug their Highgrade, once they finish, they must turn their cups upside down, _Must turn their cups upside down_."He repeated, directed directly towards Sunstreaker.

"The first team to have all four cups _turned upside down_ , Baby Blue will then announce the winner, if a team wins twice in a row, they win the game by default, but otherwise, theres three rounds, you catch me?"

Prowl grumbled an affirmative, looking down at the still pink liquid in a pitcher seated on the table with disdain, why had he allowed Jazz to pull him into this? Slowly, his fingers removed from Jazz's own as the mechs huddled around their respective cubes, lumbering around to take their positions.

Bluestreak trotted around the table, taking his time in carefully emptying an equal amount of energon into each of the competitors cubes. If Prowl had been anyone else, he might have been intimidated by the way Ironhide seamed so focused on winning, he wore that deadly, grumpy look, the same look he wore whenever he was in battle, each one of them lurked over their drinks with optics narrowed and focused on that cube, and only that cube.

They said not a word, their venting seaming to stop all together. Sideswipe took his seat, dragging the chair inwards for better access. "Alright, on your que Blue." Sideswipe said, and he, too, pitched foreword. Bluestreak lifted the whistle, he vented, confidence growing by the click.

"On your mark." The sniper drawled, Subtle movements, Sunstreaker stretched his shoulderplates, Jazz cracked his neck by violently ringing his helm to the side, his fingers extended towards his drink.

"Get set." Prowl looked around the others, quickly masking his hesitance by copying their readiness, He reached out with a large amount of uncertainty. Was he seriously going to do this?

The sound of a whistle answered for him.

"Go!" The cubes were lifted from the table at lightening fast speeds, Prowl snatched his cube up, taking large gulp after gulp of the sweetened liquid, he resisted the urge gag when the Highgrade slid down his throat and stung it's rubbering, his optics burned.

' _Please let me out...'_

Two glasses clinked against the table.

' _Please let me out... '_

Two more, whilst Prowl struggled to down the rest of his. He couldn't tell which autobot had finishes their cubes, however, he was almost finished with his own. Prowl tilted his helm up, guiding the rest of the high grade to an easy flow down the hatch, he let out a series of near-silent gags before and after he slammed his cube upside down on the table.

Looking up, getting control over himself, Prowl noticed that the last two were battling. Sideswipe and Smokescreen were throat to throat, quickly the high grade disappeared from each glass. It seemed Sideswipe was a second too slow.

Smokescreen banged his his cube down onto the table with a testy flick of his door wings, just a millisecond before Sideswipe turned his. Bluestreak blue the whistle. Prowl visibly cringed, being so close to the sniper. "Smokescreens team wins!"

Ironhide snorted, crossing his arms over his chassis while his teamates celebrated their first victory. Cliffjumper rose from his seat to hug Smokescreen. Jazz glared at Ironhide, they had both been among the first two to finish, he continued his glare even after reaching for the pitcher to refil the cubes.

"Round two!" Jazz demanded, taking not nearly enough caution as Bluestreak had in making sure the contents were equal.

"C'mon Sides. Ah know ya better'en'at." Jazz encouraged, giving the red twin a pat on the shoulderplate when he passed, Jazz scurried his way past Sunstreaker, having a strange mental image of the 'bot just snapping at him for no reason when he passed. Sideswipe growled at Jazz who gave a shrug,

Prowl watched with mild amusement, Hound came over from somewhere else, retrieving the pitcher, probably to refill it for the team. Prowl had a moment to look around, though most of the Autobots present were off doing their own thing, they had defiantly acquired the bored optics of a few who chose to stand nearby and watch, For a brief moment Prowl noticed Mirage leaned against the wall, Watching with curiousness dancing in his lenses.

The sound of a hiccup morphing into a raw guttural belch took Prowls attention off the quiet stealthbot in the corner, to Inferno who had stopped mid-conversation to let one rip from his vocalizer. Jazz laughed freely at the boyish display, Inferno grinned proudly when Smokescreen congratulated him. Prowls nose curled, he wasn't getting out of it now, complaining wouldn't do him any good, with a suffering sigh, the doorwinger looked down at his newly filled cube, nibbling at his bottom lip.

"On your mark!" Bluestreak called out, startling the black and white mecha a bit. However, this time, Prowl knew what to do, and he was ready. This was his first time participating in such an event; he wouldn't let it tarnish his reputation. He leaned over his objective, He decided to coax his battle computer into taking over the suitation, the smart, cunning portion of his processor that Prowl used for his most delicate endeavors.

"Get set!" Fingers clenching, digit tips brushing meters away from his cube, Prowls optics narrowed, Jazz was staring at him, Prowl knew this, Jazz knew Prowl knew this. It didn't stop the white mecha from striking a dazzled grin at his determination. Prowl ignored it. He was the superior officer.

"Go!" No hesitation, and snagged that cube up, throwing his head completely back, he opened up his throat, dumping the liquid down it. Prowl aquired a brief moment of taste, but was unable to savor It's flavor at the speed in which it decended.

The cube was empty, he tossed the cube on the table, forgetting momentarily for it to be set upside down, jerking his servos out, Prowl fixed that major mistake. Prowl rocked his door wings smartly, moving to observed the others.

Jazz came next, the cube being placed gently, yet challengingly against the table, then came Ironhide, who tossed the cube down without a care, it just so happened to roll into the right postion. Cliffjumper came, banging his cube twice before flicking it over. Sunstreaker must have finished before Prowl, because his cube was already turned over, he was seated in his chair, leaning back enough for the front legs to hang up and off the ground, he kept the seat steady with a pede.

Once again, it was between Sideswipe and Smokescreen, whose door wings were twitching behind him with each gulp that looked far more painful then it should have been, Sideswipe had his helm tilted back at a very uncomfortable angle, the cubes contents vanishing...

BAM!

Sideswipe slammed the cube down with so much force, Prowl could have sworn he heard it crack, hearing the loud bang, Smokescreen grumbled, draning the last few drops of his high grade into his now dejected, frowning mountplates.

"Frag you!" Sideswipe cried out, thrusting out his hands, Wagging his middle fingers at Smokescreen, he went as far as to lean his entire body mass against the table and flick Smokescreens now empty cube, it was a weak flick, though, the cube only rocked to the side.

"Karma! go on and call me slow again!" Sideswipe plopped down in his chair, grinning wickedly. Anyone could tell that the red mech had already had a few before the game started. The group got destracted for a moment; a loud cloud of chatter moved over them, while Bluestreak weaved his way around the seats to refill. Prowl tried to keep up with the conversations, but the groupings were split, and the tactician found it hard to process the amount of words flinging around at once.

It was then he began to register his own drunken effects, his arms felt numbed, he couldn't tell that his wings were moving, his processor was flashing over sentances, random thoughts skidding by, he felt an uplift in emotion, happy, or content, A light tipsy haze. He identified it. It wasn't a bad feeling.

"Sideswipes team wins!" Bluestreak announced loudly, having waited for some reason, until after he'd filled the glasses to say it. "Incase anyone's bad with numbers, your tied. Next win, wins." Blue explained, though Prowl had pretty much been the only one to pay attention to him. Cliffjumper was glaring daggers at Smokescreen who was staring with hazy optics at the floor. When Smokescreen didn't notice Cliffjumpers basic beg for attention, he pounded a fist against the table.

"Ya slow aft!" Cliffjumper barked, Smokescreen turned to look at him, wings sagging down, despite how hard he tried to look like the negativity hadn't pierced him, he glared at the red minibot. He then turned to the others, pointedly ignoring the comment.

"Why do we let Cliff drink? He's a total afthole when he's intoxicated. We all know it." Smokescreen humphed, Cliffjumper seethed off to the side, then he jumped up.

What did you say?!"

"Easy now." Ironhide soothed, putting a hand on the minibots shoulder, Cliffjumper jerked free of his grip, hot anger burning in his lenses. After a moment, and no further comment on the matter, Cliffjumper dropped back down into his seat.

Prowl smiled to himself, Why? Don't ask him, he didn't really know.

"'Nother round?" Prowl heard himself asking, it came out a bit too eagerly for him to be comfortable with, Jazz playfully nudged Sideswipes shoulder, jerking a helm in Prowls direction. The red twin snickered at the tacticians display, his back was hunched, optics unable to focus on just one thing. He looked out of it.

You all good Prowl?" Asked Sideswipe. "I'm good." Replied Prowl.

"Then Lest do this!" Ironhide cried out, he was either getting impatient or excited, it was hard to tell which. "We're gonna smoke'ya!" He taunted gruffly, the old mecha bent down over his filled glass. "Oh your mark." Bluestreak began, righting the entire set, each mecha snapped into game mode.

"Get set, Go!" Servos flew, music blasted in the backround, the cubes were drained as fast as cybertronainly possible, this time Prowl was the last to finish in his group, having been tired out his by his first few. His luck, though, wasn't as bad as Smokescreen. Prowl could hear the others cheering him on as he chugged the cubes contents, condensation balled at the end of his optics, He finished first, setting his cube down on the table, gently.

"And Sideswipe team wins!" Jazz cheered loudly, he stumbled a bit while getting out of his chair, He twirled around in a circle. Sunstreaker looked indifferent, perhaps a bit zoned out, he didn't seam to Interested in the game itself, but in the high grade. He reached out and used the pitcher to refill his cube while the others celebrated.

Sideswipe leaned on the table, jabbing his fingers out at each bot, giving them all a 'frag you.' He finished off his boasting with a kiss to the back of his own servo, which he then waved dismissively at the other team.

"You can keep that." The red twin cooed. Prowl himself had to hold back the urge to throw his hands up howl in tune with the others, but he was slightly insecure and not yet drunk enough to forget about his personal boundaries. He settled with sitting tall, door wings held loose against his back, while smirking evilly at every mech who looked at him.

"That's it, I'm done." Cliffjumper huffed out. "I am DONE teaming up with you Smokescreen!" He growled, turning his backstruts to the mech, who, was basically foaming at the mouth with a rabid defensiveness over his mauled ego.

"Primus damnit." The gambler whined out. "It's just a game, mech, you don't need to hate me!" Cliffjumper ignored this in favor of watching as Jazz became a ball of energy all of the sudden, he began banging his fists rapidly against the wooden table, it sounded like a legit earth quake, Prowl was confused at the action, even Moreso with what came next. Somewhere, at a different table, Wheeljack let out a shrill screech, sounding much like an injured bird, and began banging his fists to his own beat, adding to the thrumming sound, that, could be heard over the backround music.

After Jazz's outburst settled, the table had been quieted by the sound, he smirked. "Wha's next?" He hollered out, letting lose of more of that pent up energy. The SIC held back a groan, another one? He was already struggling to process correctly, could his frame really take more high grade? The chair he was sitting on was cold, even though he'd been there for a little over thirty minutes now. He thought solidly for a few moments while Sideswipe began clearing the last games items from the table.

He said he wasn't going to complain, but when did he draw the line? Would Jazz even allow him to stop? Was there a way he could limit how much he consumed, without gaining notice? Sideswipe thought over Jazz's question, he left to dispose of the used cubes, once he returned, he seamed to have an idea. "Quarts." he mewled out, hound passed the mech by, Arriving only to hand the red twin a larger, full to the brim pitcher, Sideswipe sat it at the end of the table, which, Ironhide had rearranged vertically. The two teams broke off into singles and began filling out the spaces around the table, seaming to know already what they had to do. Prowl just remained sitting, then, he decided to stand after a moment of feeling like an outcast.

Sideswipe dug around in his subspace, before pulling out a silk bag full of cybertronian credits, having been saved from the war, most likely, for this exact reason. Shanex had no other real purpose now. "Now, since I know you don't know what this is, Prowl, I'll give you an easy explanation." Prowls head snapped up at his name being called, he had to be honest, everything seemed a bit mixed up, he struggled to remain still on his pedes, and said struggle brought a wave of embarrassment through his wires, although after a somewhat careful inspection Prowl came to realize he wasn't the only one.

Most of the others, mainly Jazz, didnt want to hide the fact that they were feeling it, having no such shame as the police mech did. The white polyhexans hands were gripped on the table for balance while his aft absently swayed back and forth, almost like a flag blowing in the wind.

Sideswipe set up new, full cubes of high grade up on the table, placing them in rows of three, there had to have been more then twenty cubes lined up when he was finished, spanning across the distance of the table. Prowl vaguely registered the sound fast-paced lyrics filtering through his audios, it seemed to get louder as he focused on it more, he couldn't understand a word of it, which, intrigued him to listen harder.

' _I'm beginning to feel like a Rap God, Rap God, All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod, Now who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box? They said I rap like a robot, so call me rap-bot, rap-bot._

"Well, it's called quarts." Ironhide deemed it okay for himself to fill in for Sideswipe, who didn't look pleased in the least at having his host job momentarily robbed.

"What ya gotta do is bounce a credit into the pitcher, if ya make it in, ya git to pick one 'bot to drunk the cube it lands in, You keep going till you miss, and if ya miss, its the next bots' in lines turn, if ya make it in three row in a times, er-." Ironhide cleared his throat. "times in a row, you getta to make a rule, if someone breaks the rule, they git punished, by drinkin some Highgrade, gatta have a steady hand, simple enough, right?"

Prowl nodded, unknowing that he subconsciously began to move closer to Jazz's postion, the saboteur noticed this, thrilled with Prowls sudden need to be closer to him, comfort or not, it was nice to watch that built frame inch nearer.

"Now!" Sideswipe pipped in, rubbing his servos together.

"Who's first?" "Ah nominate tha' drinkin' rookie." Jazz said, grinning highly as he pushed his crush towards the end of the table. Prowl mumbled a curse under his breath, literally expecting as much. He looked over the cubes, knowing that it mattered none if he missed: he knew with all his spark that Jazz would call on him with every splash the third in command would make. His tanks gurggled at him, either in protest or anticipation , Prowl couldn't tell anymore.

"Alright, lets get this game started! I want more Highgrade!" Cliffjumper spat out venomously, he could have just gotten his own cube from the nubs in the refilling area, but he didn't, Sideswipe backed up from the table. "Hands away." He said, the rest of the mechs backed away from the table as well, giving Prowl a full view of what laid out before him. Sideswipe handed Prowl a single credit, dropping it in the Paraxians awaiting servo.

The coin felt odd in his servos, he brushed his thumb over the Sentienl prime detailing, frowning when he couldn't place the out-dents like he could have, any other time of the day. He shrugged it off though, Planning and plotting his way within that fast acting, but somewhat slowed down processor, to find the best way to bounce the coin, and what angle to do it at.

He lurked over the table, after several moments of rap music, he let out a careful flick of the wrist, the coin left his servo, it bounced off the table, landing with a splash in one of the middle cubes.

' _But for me to rap like a computer must be in my genes,_

_I got a laptop in my back pocket, My pen'll go off when I half-cock it,_

_Got a fat knot from that rap profit, Made a living and a killing off it ever since Bill Clinton was still in office, With Monica Lewinski feeling on his nutsack,_

_I'm an MC still as honest, But as rude and as indecent as all hell, Syllables, skill-a-holic (Kill 'em all with) This flippity, dippity-hippity hip-hop,_

_You don't really wanna get into a pissing match With this rappity-rap.'_

"Damn, mech, ya got a steady hand." Jazz said, swinging his hips for Eminem,Jazz patted between his friends wings, which caused Prowl to unknowingly wiggle them at the praise, standing strait up. He evaluated the crowd before him, taking in who looked the worse and who looked more composed. He picked his victim, based off his analysis.

"Sunstreaker." The yellow twin mumbled something under his breath, that sounded vaguely like a thank you, he snatched the cube from the table and plucked out the coin, he began sipping at his engex.

Prowl seemed at loss of what to do, now. He looked over to Jazz, hoping to get clarification, and he did. "Go 'gain." The white mech urged on, he ripped the bag from Sideswipes digits, dug out a coin, and sat it in Prowls hand. Before Prowl could pull away to start again, Jazz clasped the mechs servos with his own, Prowls wings fluttered, his faceplates darkened, again. Jazz smiled, sweet and tender.

His words ruined it.

"Ya got some drool on ya face, Prowler." He announced, Prowls servo snapped up to wipe away the liquid he didn't even know was there~ Bluestreak snorted lightly at this.

"Thank you." Prowl nodded to Jazz, said third in command nodded merrily back, he took a few steps away to give the lightly brooding mech some room. Once again, the coin bounced perfectly into a cube, a result of yet another stunningly planned series of movements this time, The secon in ommand chose the quiet Smokescreen to take the drink. However, the third try went downhill, instead of landing in a cube, it bounced roughly off the top, then promptly flew off the table, and was quickly lost when it rolled under the pedes of some dancers.

Not a second could pass.

"Mah turn!" Jazz hummed eagerly, snatching a cube up shoving it into Prowls hand, though, Prowl didn't remeber that being part of the game the doorwinger stared down at it with lost optics, he deided not to look inferior, so without shame the mecha gulped down the falsely handed cube, his tanks rumbled quietly, part of him knew sooner rather then later, all the grade would hit him at once, but for now he ignored the lingering drunkness staining his vision.

Of course, Jazz picked on the police mech, the first time the credit landed, he told Prowl to take the drink, unable to back down from a challenge, Prowl took the cube, still holding the half empty one in his other hand, and drank it's contents, leaving the credit inside, forgetting it was even there.

As the game progressed, Jazz and Sideswipe were the only ones to thrust engex into his somewhat unresponsive digits, fifteen breeks passed, and Prowl was swaying, fighting to remain on his pedes. He was a bit more outgoing, not hiding his amusement whenever a shanex signaled the loss of a bots pride.

He felt light, freed, and mostly carefree. Work was far, far from his processor, all he could focus on was Smokescreens movements, as he nailed three cubes in a row. The gambler huffed sassily, making sure to glare extra hard at Cliffjumper who was regretting his earlier declaration

"Rule number one." Smokescreen began. He thought for several clicks, seaming to get his ideas after a quick survey of each mech around him. "The coin can't touch the glass, it hassta land right smack in the middle or close to it, can't touch the glass though." He deposited three credits to

Cliffjumper, who seemed over-confident in himself. He marched up to the side of the table. However, his first coin made it in effortlessly, to where he demanded rather rudely that Sideswipe was to take that drink, there were still a little over a dozen cubes left, by now, they'd cycled though the team of mechs who decided to stay. The his second try ended with a light touch to the side of a cube, it went in, though, so he swung his head around, hoping that no one noticed.

Unfortunate, Cliffjumper had everyone's attention; not a single detail was missed.

"Ah saw tha'" Jazz remarked. Cliffjumper sighed, and soon accepted defeat. Time began to move slower, Prowl had to take a seat in order to maintain his sloppy coordination.

His spark was thumping hard in his chassis, he couldn't hold back the natural, and beautiful small-smile that widened on his faceplates. He felt good. There was no reason to be ashamed of it.

**|Twenty minutes later.|**

"I can't walk!" Prowl exclaimed, The table had been abandoned, a handful of Autobots retired for the night, leaving some more space in the rec. room. For Jazz, the night was far from over, this was made clear, when he could be seen guiding the doorwinger out into a cleared space, a long strip of unoccupied ground.

"No, _no_. Isn't good idea, thh..Thhhis isn't a good idea." Prowl protested, focusing way to hard on placing his steps right. Jazz was laughing, Prowl was drunk, and it was halirous, it was pleasing to know he'd accomplished his mission, seeing the normally uptight bot stumble over his words? It was the best thing, the mechs poor processor must have been in a huge jumble.

For being experienced, Jazz was also climaxing with his intoxication, he had a much, much easier time controlling it though. When the doorwinger had first stood from his chair, the third in command knew instantly what game they were going to do next. And so, Jazz playfully ignored the mechs statement, slipping the blanket-torn blindfold over his optics anyway, Prowl squeaked when he was overcome by the darkness. He threw his hands out, and grasped Jazz's armor.

"This isn't funny!" Prowl raged, he reached up to claw at his blindfold, Jazz snagged his clenching hands to stop him.

"I want to see." Prowl added, a little calmer after the gesture. "It'll be okay mech!" Jazz encouraged, giving a series of tender kisses to the tacticians fingers. Prowl stilled, the affectionate motions stopped his train of thought. He took a vent.

"Ya got this." Jazz purred.

"I do?"

"For sure." The white mecha confirmed, Feeling slightly renewed, Prowl forced his slight hunch away.

' _IF YOUR NOT DRUNK LADIES AND GENTLEMEN GET READY TO GET DRUNKED UP!_

_Alla the alcoholics, where you at? Let's go!'_

Sideswipe bounced over to join Jazz, Positively beaming from the nights enjoyment, the red twin couldn't ignore the blatant fact that Prowl could no longer stand still. To jib at this, the prankster walked up behind the unsuspecting mech, and grasped two clammy servos down on his shoulder pads. His victim flinched.

Still, Prowl, that's right." Sideswipe cooed, pawing his thumbs into the nearest seams, further relaxing the Paraxian. "Ready Prowler?" Jazz chirped, Prowl could hear the snarky smile in his voice. "Ready for whu, what?" The second answered, Sideswipe attempted to massage the sudden tenseness.

_'When I walk into the club, all eyes on me,_

_I'm with the party rock crew, All drinks are free_

_We like ciroc,_

_we love patrone,_

_We came to party rock, everybody it's on!_

"Were gonna spin ya, and your gonna run to Hound." Jazz told the other, he nodded to Sideswipe, barely giving the second time to comprehend his meaning, Sideswipe began spinning Prowl fast to the left, said doorwinger cried out In suprise as his pedes tried to keep up with the movement his tanks churned, a sparkle of pure joy surged through him at the motion, they counted to sixty, the blindfold was ripped off Prowls face, and a cube of high grade shoved into his servos. His processor was spinning, Sideswipe shoved Prowl ahead with no hesitance or warning.

_SHOTS, SHOTS, SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS, SHOTS, SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS, SHOTS, SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS,_

_EVERYBODY!_

Sunstreaker, who had had the same treatment done to him beside Prowl, dashed foreword, but slowed after he'd almost fallen, Ironhide, who was stationed a distance ahead of the yellow mech, screamed at Sunstreaker hurry the frag up, while Hound, a distance before Prowl nicely beckoned Prowl over to him with promises of rewards and comfort.

Prowl stumbled, then swayed back, he gained his footing and began foreword again, his pede touched down at an odd angle, so he fell, glass raised in the air, no contents were spilled. It was so damn frustrating.

He couldn't walk before, now it was Hell.

Sunstreaker was having a harder time keeping his Highgrade in, it sloshed out of the top of the cube, splashing onto the growling twins yellow chassis.

"Come on! Hurry up!" Ironhide yelled, throwing his hands up in expatriation, Taking things way too seriously. Prowl, who was still sitting on his aft, cube still lifted in the air, blinked at the world around him in stupor, his door wings twitching behind him, he didn't move. He felt content with just sitting there and never getting up.

Sunstreaker was unsteadily getting to his feet, having fallen at some point, he used one servo to lift himself up, while the cubed hand was raised above his helm, a look of pure determination sprawled across his handsome faceplates.

"Prowl, you hassta get up an' come ta me." Hound said softly, but with a touch of irritation, Prowl didn't notice the change in voice, only the command, he leaned foreword, hand still raised, and used his knees to stand up. The world spun around the Paraxian as he took small baby steps foreword, even though the distortion from the spinning was wearing down, he still had to suffer through the path before him. Although the path was strait, to all others, to Prowl, it was an obstical course that was winding and spinning, constantly moving to make everything even more difficult.

Sunstreaker seemed to gain his footing, and perhaps just a little to much confidence, he rushed foreword at full sprint, the table they had used for games seamed to interest Sunstreaker more then Ironhides attitude did, because the yellow twin seemed to make a turn for it, he rushed head on into it, and his yelp of suprise was lost within the laughter of the rec. room when the tables edge cut the twin off, his top half snapped over the tabletop, folding over it, there was a thump when his face bashed into the smooth wood.

There was a groan, Prowl stopped just long enough to look at Sunstreaker, when he managed the strength to peel himself away from the table, the tactician was dully amazed. Sunstreakers cube was still full, only a small splotch of engex had spilt onto the table. Seeing this as Prowls winning stretch, while Sunstreaker recovered the tactician took a vent, then continued with renewed determination, at a steady and loyal pace.

He focused on Hounds smiling, slightly screwed faceplates.

Closer.

_Closer..._

Prowls cheveron bumped off the taller trackers chassis, He backed up a bit, shaking his helm, he'd finished, but that didn't stop him from as he mumbling apology to the green tracker that awaited him.

After a moment of standing still, Prowl was able to coordinate again. "ya won _Prrrr_ -Prowlerr!" Jazz purred from behind the door winger, Just when he's found gravity, Jazz was rushing up to him, Prowl 'umphed' when Jazz tackled the unsteady drunken mech to the floor.

Prowl was either caught up in the floors patterns after he landed, or he may have been too confused to realized what had happened, but when he did, Prowl spoke in with a very unconvincing "Woo." He sat the cube down on the floor, then struggled to roll onto his back, Jazz didn't make it any easier on him, the minibot purched over Prowl, much like a cat. He seamed to be way more exited that Prowl had won, then Prowl himself was.

He began lightly slapping the metal of the police mechs chassis. "Ya won! I toldja you could do it." There was a very ridiculous smile on his faceplates. "What'd I win?" Prowl slurred, helm lifted from the ground to watch the minibots expressions. "Tha' Highgrade ya had in ya hand!" His face scrunched, he looked over at the cube which had caused him so much trouble. He shoved Jazz off his front, he tried to stand, then quickly thought against it, instead, he ended up just sitting right there on the floor. Jazz crawled up to him, he collapsed onto Prowls lap, the saboteurs servo meekly reached out to the glass of engex, where Prowl had left it. It was out of reach, he frowned. Should he really let Jazz have another? A soft tune began to play, calmer then before. There was the steady strum of an acoustic guitar. After several seconds of intro, Prowl realized he'd heard the song before. _'Well, you done done me and you bet I felt it, I tried to be chill, but you're so hot that I melted, I fell right through the cracks, Now I'm trying to get back.'_ Prowl visibly shrugged, he reached out and slid the cube closer to Jazz's extended digits, he snagged it up, then sat up to gulp it's contents. "We done with games?" Prowl asked tiredly, his tanks churned as they attempted to relax, after what he'd been exposed to. Jazz made a sound, swallowing a ball of engex down his throat, cringing when it hurt a little. "Nah. We good on games. Ah'm at tha chill stage." He sat the cube down, then he trapped the Paraxian by flopping his top half back down onto his lap, he turned to face Prowls stomach, where the saboteur buried his nasalridge into it's warm, softer metal. _'But I won't hesitate, No more, no more, It cannot wait, I'm yours. mmmmmh.'_ Prowl looked down at him, a faint smile lingering on his lips, he reached out and lightly pinched the mechs helmnubs. "Ah like it when ya pet meh." Jazz mumbled out, nuzzling Prowls belly. _'Well open up your mind and see like me, Open up your plans and damn you're free, Look into your heart and you'll find love, love, love, love_ _listen to the music of the moment people dance and sing, Were just one big family, and it's our godforsaken right to be loved, loved, loved, loved._ _So I won't hesitate, No more, no more, It cannot wait, I'm sure._ _There's no need to complicate, Our time is sure, This is our fate, I'm yours.'_ ...Tbc...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song names.
> 
> •Lifehouse- you and I   
> • Disturbed- Perfect insanity.  
> •Eminem- Rap God.  
> •Shots- LMAFO  
> •I'm yours- Jason Mraz.
> 
> Again, forgiveness for the mash! I still hope it was enjoyable. Lemmie know whatcha think :)


	4. chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to add another chapter to this, Todays my birthday, and i keep looking back to see how many of you liked this fanfiction, so ... Here you go!

 

He’d never felt like this before, it was insane. He continuously zoned in and out between the land of happiness and the land of now, he was seated beside Jazz in one of the pulled up chairs, at the table they used for the games. It had quickly become some kind of chatting table, the group of nine sat around, conversing with each other, yelling across the table, occasionally laughing, occasionally insulting eachother. Ironhide and Sunstreaker seamed to hold quite the grudge from their earlier game, because more often then not, they would randomly turn aggressive to eachother.

Prowl was no longer ashamed to sip at the seemingly never ending supply of high grade. Where the frag did they get so much high grade? Who made it? When was it made? They were in the middle of a war… Who the scrap had time to concoct enough High Grade to feed an entire army? He stayed mostly quiet, Drunkenness making him feel a bit socially awkward. He’d embarrassed himself during the Games, but he honestly doubted he could make himself look worse then half of the mechs he was watching now.

"Hey guys?" Came Smokescreens low, focused voice, Prowl looked up at the bot, watching as he leaned himself almost completely out of his chair, staring at the side of the table, rubbing something on it with his thumb, in slow, circling motions.

"Did you know... Theerr… er.” he broke off, swallowing, almost unable to finish his sentence. He continued. “There’s’a scratch on the table?" Smokescreen finished, as if the scratch was the ost interesting thing in the entire world and universe combined

"Your seeing things." Sunstreaker mumbled from his spot beside his red twin, face snug in his arms, if the mech hadn't spoken, Prowl would have thought he was asleep. "No I'm not, look.” He pointed to it, No one looked. “How did it get there?” he wondered, looking at it, he glanced at the others, waiting for some kind of answer.

"Prolly when Sunny rolled over tha' table." Jazz chimed in teasingly his voice a chuckle, Sunstreaker spoke his famous line of 'don't call me that!' However, the tone lacked reprimanding, it lacked everything. Maybe Sunstreaker pushed his limit just a little bit…. Unluckily for prowl, he didn’t exactly know what his limit was yet.

"Poor, sad, sad Scratch." Smokescreen drawled sadly, putting his face against the table. Offlining his optics. Prowl was sure he wasn't the only one staring at the door winger as if he had four heads. He guessed everyone took to their grade differently. He was sure, they could be in the middle of a gun fight, and Prowl would turn to look at the other Paraxian from across the smoke covered field, and only be able to picture his half sedated face pressed against the edge of a table with a little drool coming from the corner of his mouth.

"Hey, hey Blue!" Sideswipe said loudly, taking the attention from Smokescreen either on purpose or not, Prowl couldn't tell. Sideswipe was leaning towards the door winger who turned to address the stuttering mech, his face a bit distorted. "I've gotta funny pick up line, wanna hear?" Bluestreak hummed, giggling a bit at nothing, or at Sideswipe. It could have been either. the others' conversations seemed to dribble to a stop as they listened to what the twin had to say.

"Bluestreak, Do you live in a cornfield?”

“No Sides, I dont live in no corn field. Whats a cornfield?” Bluestreak answered, doorwings flicking upward with interest. Wheeljack happened to be passing by, he stopped at the edge of a table, ears flashing. “Its a large open plot of land where humans farm plants that, over the course of several months, Grow into a vegtable called corn. Do you remember that can Lennox was eating out of the other day? Thats corn. Little round yellow things.” Bluestreak blinked, following it… At least thats what it looked like.

Sideswipe sighed. Tapping his digit against the table. Jazz laughed a little. “Thanks fer tha’ imput mech.” He said with a thumbs up, Wheeljack returned his gesture, and left to go back to his own little table of nerds.

“Anyway...” Sideswipe muttered.

“Bluestreak, do you live in a cornfield?”

“Well no~”

“Because I'm stalking you."He finished

Jazz was the first to laugh, which was quickly joined in by the others, Prowl just shook his head, which suddenly became a very intriguing thing to do, he shook his head again, watching as the world rushed by him, making him dizzy, the motion then sent a wave of nasua to his tanks… was quick to stop.

"I could come up with a better one then that." Sunstreaker said in a matter of fact tone, as he lifted his head up from his arms for the first time in fifteen minutes. Sideswipe puffed up his chassis, daring him to try.

"Oh yeah?" He challenged. "Humor me." With that. Sideswipe slammed his hands against the table and threw his body back against the chair.

"Is your dad a baker? Cause you've got a nice set of buns." Sunstreaker said this lazily, rolling his head to the side to look at his brother, however, the lack of emotion didn't deter a certain 'bot who's name was Ironhide, because he seemed to find this joke the funniest thing in the world, so much that, he slammed his servo against the table a few times.

"It's funny!" Ironhide chortled, leaning over. "Cause we don't bake! We ‘ont even have buns!"He laughed again, then forced himself to stop by shoving some grade down his throat. His optics dimmed, suggesting he was looking something up on the internet in his internal CPU. “’kay, I got one.” He managed.

Prowl rolled his optics, he could already see where this was going, but found himself leaning in towards Ironhide, ready to listen to what the mech had to say, to no one in particular. "Do you work at dick's? Cause you've got the goods!"

“Dear god...” a human could be heard groaning in the distance. Prowl looked at him. He was frowning at them. These were cheesy, Prowl realized and had to admit, but he snorted, Beside him Jazz chuckled loudly, sipping more of high grade, oh! High grade! Prowl forgot he still had a cube.

Lifting his half full cube to his lips, Prowl listened as the group seemed to challenge each other with cheesy pickup lines that they probably looked up on the Internet. No not probably. They most defintly looked these up on the internet. There was no way a squad of drunken mechs could come up with an original joke.

Prowl paused, swinging his optics from side to side to look at the others, his optics dimmed as he brought up the humans Search engine, Google. A quick search of 'joke pick up lines' brought up a page that he knew the others were looking at.

"Lets make like fabric softener and snuggle!" Cliffjumper shouted in, daring someone else to come up with another one, Bluestreak threw his hands up. Then pointed strait at Sideswipe. "If you were a booger, I'd pick you first!"

Sideswipe seemed thrilled with that idea while the others laughed around them, Prowls optics stayed on the red twin as he leaned over petting the snipers helm lovingly. In a low voice the TIC was sure he had never heard before, Sideswipe whispered.

"Lets ‘ _ _insert’__ things into ‘ _ _other’__ _ _t__ hings." Prowl lifted his head up, nodding slowly like he expected something like that fromthe mech, Bluestreaks cooling fans kicked on loudly as the sniper pulled off a giggle only Bluestreak could preform so perfectly.

"Oh?" The sniper drawled, unaware that they had the attention of the entire table. Bluestreaks servo shot out to caress the corvettes headlights, circling them slowly.

"I wouldn't mind that. You i _ _nserting__ , or am I?" Prowls optics unwillingly fuzzed at the honeyed, low voice the Tactician NEVER wanted to hear from the youngling, the black and white mech was feeling pretty awkward, watching the pair whisper things Prowl could no longer hear, Jazz, who was beside him, even leaned in towards the front liner, as if wanting in on the secrets.

Prowl was about to say something to take the attention from them, mouth opening just a little, but Sideswipe leaning in, licking up Bluestreaks audio distracted the TIC, Prowl watched as Sideswipe whispered something that caused the sniper to shiver, although Prowl didn't hear what the gunner had said, it seemed Sunstreaker did, jjuse the yellow twin lifted his helm from his arms, turning to his brother with one of the most obscene, disgusted looks Prowl had ever seen on anyones face.

" _Jesus fucking Christ_ guys! Sunstreaker drawled raucously loud, he leaned up, grabbing the rim of the table and forcefully moved himself closer to Jazz, that disturbed look still aimed at his twin who grinned like the Cheshire Cat from that one movie Jazz made him watch, he forgot the name though.

Prowl watched with a raised optic ridge as Jazz leered close to Sunstreaker whispering a not so discreet."Wha'd 'e say?" Sunstreaker turned and gave the saboteur a pointed look, Prowl knew he wasn't the only one to want in on what he had to say.

"'Ill tell you later." Was all Sunstreaker said. Jazz's face fell, a frown forming, he looked about ready to protest, but it was abruptly cut off by the sound of crashing metals.

All optics snapped to the source of the sound, only to find the chair Smokescreen had been sitting in, on its side, and said bot no where in sight.

Prow found himself standing up as well as the others, if Smokescreen was no longer visable above the table, it meant one thing…. He looked over the edge just in time to see Smokescreen with his face flat on the ground, wings plastered to his back, aft sticking up in the air. Prowl couldn't help it, really, his throat bubbled up a raw bark of a laugh, then, it all spilled out like dumped energon, he sat back down, just in time for the loudest, most ridiculous laughs to flood from his vocalizer. The others joined him, watching as the downed door winger tried to get up, it was painful to watch, but it only made Prowl, as well as the others, laugh harder at his failed attempts.

Apparently the mech gave up, because he settled with sitting with his legs crossed on the ground, only his helm visible above the table top. His optics were both embarrassed and angry, he stared at the others around him with such deadly intent that it actually made Prowl shiver.

While the others laughed, it seemed Smokescreen wanted them to forget, he opened his mouth, a grin breaking out like a rash on his face.

"Did you have lucky charms for breakfast? Cause your lookin' magically delicious!"

Prowl couldn't breathe, he didn't know why exactly he found it so funny, perhaps it was just the way the race car had said it, so... Desperately, Prowl didn't know, but everything to him right then was just to funny, everything looked funny too. The wall looked funny, the stage looked funny, whatever that thing over there looked ridiculously funny. Gears was sleeping, and that, all on its own, was somehow comical.

Was he getting to off track because _all_ the humorous things he could point out?

"Ah got one! Ah got one!" Jazz called out turning to Prowl. Who looked over at the sound of Jazz’s voice, Prowl tilted his helm. "Do ya work at subway? Cause you jus' gave me a foot long!"

Prowl didn't get it, but the others seemed to, their laughs from when Smokescreen fell continued, some what louder. Prowl was left to mull over the words, No, he didn't work at Subway, what was Subway? and why would he give him a foot long...

__Oh..._ _

Prowls optics trailed down to Jazz's gleaming Cod piece, it all clicked into place.

__Oh!_ _

Prowls cooling fans kicked on, Jazz smirked at this, but they otherwise went unnoticed, Cliffjumper shouting out from directly across from the saboteur.

"Jazz, if ya only got a foot long I might just send you to Ratchet!"

“AYE!” Jazz shouted, offended as hell. His once smiling lips set abruptly in a look of irritation. He pushed out of his chair, and stood up, heated optics glaring at Cliffjumper with hostility he Prowl never saw before, not even towards a Decepticon.

“Tha’ was uncalled fer, No dissin’ a mechs spike!” He demanded of the smaller red autobot. Prowl was momentarily distracted by the heavy drums, and guitar that shreiked loudly from the rec rooms speakers.

‘ _My heart is frozen!_

_My souls been broken!_

_The whole worlds on my motherfucking shoulders_

_and I cant seam to control it._

He wanted to cringe at the human screaming in the song, but he couldn’t, because he found that scream… was actually kind of attractive. How could someone yell and still make It sound musical? "'Sides, ah got a bigger spike then you!" That statement stunned Prowl enough for the music to completely leave his mind. Prowls optics went impossibly wide as Cliffjumpers entire frame seemed to go rigid with anger, his fists balled at his side, the chair somehow seamed to push out magically as he stood, if Prowl were sober, he would have noticed it had been the red mechs legs that pushed it back, but he wasn't.

So he settled on magic.

_I cant contain it_

_I just dont give a shit_

_you need to feel the way that I feel_

_or you’ll never fucking know it_

Cliffjumper was shaking with unneeded rage, Ironhide, just now sensing the tense air and the peeved off Cliffjumper, went to stand to intercept, but before he could, Cliffjumper shouted.

"Wanna bet? Ya? Wanna? My spike is two times better 'en yours!" Cliffjumper backed away from the table, making his way around it, he passed by Prowl who, unknowingly ducked his head at the motion.

_BURN_

_mother fucker_

_BURN_

_Motherfucker_

_BURN!_

_You tried but you cant reach me_

_BURN~_

The music abruptly stopped, Prowl looked over at Blaster, just as the song changed

 

_My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard,_

One of the humans could be heard, screaming up at Blaster when he changed the song. “HOW DARE YOU?!”

_And they're like_

_It's better than yours,_

_Damn right it's better than yours,_

_I can teach you,_

_But I have to charge—_

Prowl glared over at the music booth too, was Blaster doing that on purpose? Changing the songs like that? He caught just a glimpse of Blasters smirking form before he disappeared behind his booth.

__Smart aft._ _

Cliffjumper stopped at the still form of Jazz, the normally high strung bot was apparently taking this way to seriously, because his lips were in a tight line, arms crossed over his chassis. In a voice, so dark and void of its usual accent, Jazz leaned towards Cliffjumper. "Come at me, Bro." Jazz crooned dangerously, sizing Cliffjumper up, he then added with a snarky sideways dip of his helm, his tone completely dead.

"If you got the ball bearings." He finished

"Whoa! Hold up now!" Ironhides attempt to stop the fight died in his failure to quickly move to Cliffjumpers position, because he tripped over something, his own feet it seemed like, and fell chest first into the ground.

Looked like he didn't want to get up. At all. He just laid there.

Prowls optics roamed from the groaning form of Ironhide to Cliffjumper who seemed to boil and steam with rage, his fist flew out to punch the saboteur, only for Jazz to bring his hand up impossibly fast and catch the appendage before it even had a chance to touch him.

Prowl was leaning back, hands gripping the table, he should have stopped them, it was the logical thing to do, he was one for the law, it was basically his job. Fights were not permitted on the base, whoever broke that law saw to Prowl personally, but it seemed his logic computer was off, probably because of the high grade. Because Prowl just stood there, and stared.

"Sit down, small spike." Jazz growled, tossing Cliffjumpers arm off to the side, the minibot seemed to fly off into that direction, he landed just inches from Sunstreaker, who's head snapped up, entire body jerking alive, optics still offline, the pit fighter threw his chair back, a fist flying out to address the threat that had woken him, it all happened to quick for Prowl processor to even handle.

"Aw, slag..." Sideswipe voiced the rest of the tables thoughts, seconds before Sunstreakers fist slammed into the unprepared mini bots face, there was a loud crack, as well as the chatter of a breaking optic lens shattering beneath the punch, Cliffjumper couldn't stand his ground, his body was thrown back into Jazz's. a loud yelp escaping his throat.

The anger Jazz seemed to have before at Cliffjumper quickly melted from him, because Jazz caught the falling Cliffjumper, an accusing visor shot up to look at Suntreaker while the red minibot clutched at his broken optic. Sunstreaker, for his part, seamed to be a bit confused, mouth slightly agape, optics zooming in and out. Blaster decided that it alright to change the song once again.

_Bad boys, bad boys whatcha gonna do?_

_Whatcha gonna do when they come for you?_

_Bad boys, bad boys whatcha gonna do?_

_Whatcha gonna do when they come for you?_

All three 'bots slowly turned to peer down at Prowl as if expecting something, Prowls wings flared up. At the attention, feeling flustered suddenly. Feeling uncomfortable, Prowl looked down at his pedes, swirling them on the ground, his door wings twitched down like a dogs ears at being scolded. He noticed they were still looking at him by the way the silent air tickled his armor, he looked up, a bit surprised as to why he was letting it slide.

"What?" Prowl exclaimed accusingly, optics switching between the three forms, He was drunk, He didn’t feel like doing something.

That one word seemed to eliminate all the anger within the three forms, because Sunstreaker snorted, dropping his aft back down in his seat, Jazz grinned madly, looking like he just got away with murder, and slowly turned the minibot off in the direction of the door. Jazz then slopped a quick kiss on Prowls cheek, the TICS cooling fans kicked on his face plates heating up as the mech was struck with a sudden wave of shyness, ducking his helm down.

Prowl looked up just in time to see Cliffjumpers odd look directed at him, well, as odd as it could get with one servo covering half his bleeding face.

"Get over it." Prowl said heatedly, yet somewhat jokingly at the awkwardly standing mech.

Cliffjumper for his part left quicker then was physically healthy. Probably towards the medbay.

"My love for you is like diarrhea, I just can't hold it in!" The stunned silence was literaly ripped in half by Bluestreaks completely random outburst, Sideswipe gave off a nervous laugh, and Prowl found himself laughing, a laugh that broke the tense air, the others joined him.

 _ _Aaand back to where we started__. Prowl mused to himself as Inferno, who had been quiet wanted in on the fun, he laughed in. "Do you live on a chicken farm? Because you sure now how ta raise cocks!"

"It's pretty cold out here! Can I come inside of you?" Smokescreen said that one, Prowl believed.

They must have been loud, because from somewhere off in the distance, he heard Wheeljack shout.

"Did you fart? Because you just blew me away!"

"OH MAH PRIMUS!" Jazz hollered, throwing his hands over his face, "Ya so ironic! Cause ya blow ya'self up o'lot! Ah Primus! Come're Jack!"

Wheeljack was about to get up when Jazz decided he needed to let loose some energy, he jogged over to the sitting inventor, leaned down in a way a mech would to a sparkling, threw his servo up giving the mech a ten point high five.

"Good one 'Jacky!" Sideswipe called back, while Jazz made his way back to his seat, Wheeljack waved merrily at the two 'bots, Sunstreaker who must have gotten over his earlier slip up, decided he hadn't said enough, he spoke up over the loud laughs.

"We're you're caretakers retarded? Cause you look pretty special."

Jazz found this the funniest thing in the world while Bluestreak, seemed less as pleased, the sniper spun around from looking at Sideswipe and clocked the snickering yellow twin right in the back of the head.

"That's horrible!" Bluestreak exclaimed, glaring hard at the yellow mech. Sunstreaker snorted. Giving Bluestreak a mater of fact look.

"But it was funny." Sunstreaker stated, toasting his cube to the gunner.

Prowl didn't even know he grinning like an idiot as he finished his cube, only to find another one shoved in his direction curticy of Jazz, gladly, Prowl picked the cube up, mumbling a cheery, sweet 'thank you' to Jazz who replied with a nonchalant 'no prob.' Back.

Prowls processor was completely numb, as well as his body, he couldn't control what he did any longer, he noticed how his door wings were held high above his helm, he felt great, honestly! This was probably the best decision he had made In a long time, he no longer felt crowded with work, even, right about now, it was surprisingly, the last thing on his mind.

"Ya must be a light switch." Jazz drawled to the group, a smile flicking on his lips. "Cause every time ah see ya, ya turn me on!"

Prowl giggled- he actually giggled! A sound that seemed to be louder then the laugher, because the whole table went quiet, this was hardly regestered in Prowls mind, because the tactician continued to sway, smile, and giggle, he wasn't even giggling at the bad pick up line, he was giggling at himself for giggling.

"Well I'll be damned." Sideswipe said with disbelief, his glazed over optics turning to a triumphant looking Jazz.

"You actually did it." Sideswipe added approvingly, dipping his helm in Jazz's direction. Said mech just just nodded slyly in response.

It was then when the organic loving Hound decided he wanted to join in on their little party with another pick up line. He sauntered his way up to the table with sloppily legs that threatening to bend beneath him, his optics were set in a way of pure determination, yet, amusement trickled within them.

"Roses are red." He began singing in a low, perfectly tuned voice whoever hadn't noticed the 'bot approaching, did then, well, all accept for Sideswipe and Bluestreak, who were once again leaned close together, whispering fast, no doubtingly perverted words to one another.

"Violets are blue." Hound took a long sip of his cube, back pressed against a still Ironhide. Hound smirked dangerously. "I think ya hot." He leaned over Ironhide, rubbing the weapon specialists chassis with skillful digits, purposely dipping his fingers into the mechs transformation seams, Prowl cringed, nose wrinkling up in disgust in such an open display. Was getting horny a drunk thing or what?

Ironhide was still as hell, but by the sound of his venting, he wasnt exactly hating it. Hound leaned down, mouth inches from Ironhides audio.

"Can I frag you?"

Ironhide seamed to like that idea, because his cooling fans kicked on max the trigger happy mech threw his chair back into the Tracker. Hound didn't seem to care about being pushed back a ways, because the tracker tilted his helm, watching as Ironhide, rounded the chair, grabbed his face, and kissed the green autobot.

"If you were words on a page, you'd be what they call FINE PRINT!" Inferno shouted impossibly loud, as if voicing that, Yeah, he had been quiet, but he was _still there_!

"Is your name Mickey?" Sideswipe asked no one. The red twin wheezed out "Because your so fine!"

At that, Jazz threw back his chair, throwing his arms out and swaying his hips while shouting out of tune.

"Hey Mickey your so fine, your so fine you blow my mind HEY MICKEY!"

"HEY, HEY, HEY MICKY!" Bluestreak cheered in, and suddenly, things escalated quickly, because Sideswipe stood up as well, yanking Bluestreak up with him as they all joined in in a chorus of hey Mickey, seriously, Prowl, Sunstreaker and Ironhide -giving the mech was making out on the floor with Hound- were the only ones not to jump up and starting singing along. He swore he even heard Wheeljack yell. 'Hey Mickey!' From the other side of the room.

It was then when Prowl realized that he had been pretty much the only Autobot not to say any pick up lines, his face scrunched up in deep though, thinking over everything that he liked. Hoping he would come up with something.

His mind was a bit fragged up at the moment, of course, high grade would to that to a bot.

_Lets see... Prowl though, humming outwardly, everything else around him seemed to vanish into dull back round sound._

_Things I like? Things I like... Jazz. I like Jazz, Jazz is a nice bot, he's pretty, sexy, sleek, and outgoing._

_Lets see. Jazz has a nice smile, a nice pain job, nice moves and- oh!_

_Prowl leaned to the side, catching a glimpse of Jazz's aft, which went unnoticed by the others, not that Prowl would have seen them looking, anyway._

_He's got a nice aft too._

Prowls hand shot up with a snap of his fingers.

__I got it! I got it!_ _

Jerking his helm up, Prowl hardly realized he had been leaning over to far In his chair until his hole body jerked, the chair seeming to be pulled put from underneath him as he face planted right into the ground. The others found this so funny, laughing their helms off.

Jazz reached down to help the bot up, but it wasn't needed, Prowl jumped up fast, attempting to mask his mistake by making a quick comeback, perhaps it was a bit too fast, because he lost his footing, falling strait back down on his aft.

"Someones to drunk to stand!" Inferno hollered while he laughed, the entire room lit up with laughter, but Prowl found this no need, determined to have his joke told, Because it WOULD be, Prowl put both his hands on the edge of the table, gripping it tightly, he used it as leverage, pulling himself right to the edge, aft scraping against the floor, it seemed like the hardest thing in the world at that moment.

Once he was close enough, Prowl hoisted himself up, he couldn't help but feel awesome as all optics watched him make an epic comeback. Once he was standing, Prowl put both hands on the table.

"I am sober." Prowl growled at Inferno, somehow taking the to drunk to stand exclamation to spark, Inferno reeled back in a fake display of fear, his optics narrowing playfully.

"Are you now?" He voiced smartly, tilting his helm at Prowl. Said mechs door wings jerked with irritation, Prowl didn't quite know why he did it, but he leaned himself over the table and closer to Inferno, and in a drawled out, confident whisper, he said.

"Sober."

Infernos lips pulled down in some kind of horrified, but deeply amused frown, he rocked his body slowly to the side, Giving Smokescreen a one optic wider then the other look. With an optic ridge raised, Inferno turned back to Prowl, Jazz's loud musical laughter was hardly heard by the two.

"Sure..." Inferno said slowly, giving him a equally slow nod of his helm as he said it. But still, Prowl didn't move from his leaned over, standing position, optics a light blue, lips set in a small frown.

"I'm soberer then you are." Prowl told him, Inferno, who looked just a bit freaked out, drew his servo to his chassis and lightly touched his spark chamber with his digits while he drawled.

"Alright, whatever you say Prowl" The smallest hint of a grin rose on Prowls face as he leaned away from Inferno. the second those optics roamed away from the fire escapes own, he turned to look to the others, a look that asked. 'Did that just happen?'

Jazz had his hands over his mouth to keep from laughing and ruining to moment, however, he nodded excitedly at inferno showing that he understood the question and yep, that just happened.

"Hey Jazz?" Prowl announced loudly his normal emotionless voice gone, instead, it was replaced by a low pitched to high pitch wobbly, slurring voice. Prowl slammed his servos against the table once, trying to get the mechs attention.

"Yeah, mech?" Jazz quarried removing his visor from Inferno, leaning in to hear what the Paraxian had to say, venting, Prowl smirked.

"Did you sit in a pile of sugar? Because you've got a pretty sweet aft!" The hole room went quiet once more, optics wide, all thinking the same thing.

__Did Prowl just?_ _

However, Prowl was already giggling, which seemed to set the others off, because the entire room erupted with laughter, boasting Prowls ego, Prowls giggle seemed to get higher pitched as the seconds ticked by, so high pitched that, Prowls vocalizer fuzzed out and his giggles were replaced by long, drawled out breathy hee hee hee's. Jazz's optics went wide at the display, before he could stop it, a loud, bellowing laugher exploded from his vocalizer. he slammed his helm against the table, laughing his helm off, one thought running through his processor.

_Only two hours in, Tanigh's gonna be'ya good night._

Once again, the song changed, curticy of the smirking Blaster behind the scenes.

_Go cops, get the dogs_

_Let's go fuck with old folks_

_That's right, let's get high_

_and pull over black guys_

_Get buzzed,_

_smoke some drugs_

_Bitch, I'm rollin' with the fuzz, now_

_Po, po, po, po_

_Po, po, po, po_

_Smoke rocks!_

_With the cops_

_Let's go storm the barber shop_

_It sure is nice, bein' white_

_Haha, just kiddin' black guys!_

_Waving guns,_

_at some nuns,_

_bitch bend over,_

_we the fuzz, hoe_

_Po, po, po, po_

_Po, po, po, po!_

Jazz only laughed harder.

****TBC... Review!** **

 


	5. Ah night ta remember...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own transformers or the songs.

 

It was about that time at night where things were starting to calm down. The room separated into just about four groups. One group, the 'bots who had fallen asleep or passed out. That little group included Sunstreaker, Bluestreak and Gears, They were seated in the ‘TV’ area of the recreational room, where a few custom crafted couches surrounded a large TV.

The second group were the 'bots that had either left to recharge, or to sneak off for some interface. Hound, Ironhide, Marriage and Huffer were part of that group, along with many others that Prowl hadn’t paid enough attention to name.

The third group, which could only be labeled as the ' _still partying'_ group where, although the scene around them had died down quite a bit, they still danced around and drank. Jazz, Sideswipe, Blaster, Bumblebee, Arcee and Bulkhead. Sideswipe purged a few times, but the mech was still dancing.

And then there was the fourth, the relaxers. The ones who, were still drunk, but to lazy to move, either that or they didn't want to. Prowl was one of them, he sat along side Wheeljack as well as Optimus Prime himself, Elita was wrapped up in the Autobot leaders arms, Fast asleep.

They were having a conversation, Prowl and Wheeljack, but for some reason it abruptly stopped. They both went uncannily quiet as they watched the others around them. But as the minuets passed more of group four left. And It wasn't long before Wheeljack bid him goodnight and left as well, probably to hunt down Ratchet, leaving Prowl completely alone in the back to watch Jazz. And mech, was that something, to watch Jazz as he was living it up, completely wasted, dancing himself around like no one was watching.

In fact, Prowl could have sworn he had seen Optimus sitting beside him with Elita a second ago... His optics must be going bad. No,they werent bad. They must have left when Wheeljack did.The music was still loud. But Prowl had gotten used to it by now. He either ignored it or well, that's pretty much all he did.

_When I got the news today_

_I didn't know what to say._

_So I just hung up the phone._

_I took a walk to clear my head,_

_This is where the walking led_

_Can't believe you're really gone_

_Don't feel like going home._

_So I'm gonna set right here_

_On the edge of this pier_

_Watch the sunset disappear..._

_And drink a beer..._

_Prowl lifted his head t_ o look at the booth which Blaster was sitting in. He couldn't ignore this song, and he had to admit, this kind of music really relaxed him. It was the melody, the soft strokes of the acoustic guitar, there was no drum beat present, but that only made it better. This genre didn't over do itself like most others. Although Prowl didn't know the name It was still perfect, touching, and memorable.

A little barley there smile stretched on Prowls lips as he shuttered his optics, his helm casting down to face the ground. His wings slowly fluttered behind him, although the lyrics to the song weren't the best or happiest, the soft melody, and that deep baritone that sang perfectly to him was enough.

_Funny how the good ones go_

_Too soon, but the good Lord knows_

_The reasons why, I guess_

_Sometimes the greater plan_

_Is kinda hard to understand_

_Right now it don't make sense_

_I can't make it all make sense_

_So I'm gonna set right here_

_On the edge of this pier_

_Watch the sunset disappear..._

_And drink a beer_

Prowls fingers drummed against the metal of his legs creating his own drum beat to go with the song, his foot softly tapped along. He found himself looking over to the seat where Wheeljack had been sitting, only to find himself not so much alone anymore.

He was happy to see Jazz, although he didn't see him sneak up to sit beside him. He was even happier to see he was somewhat in the same trance Prowl was in. With a little more confidence then he would normally have, Prowls hand slipped out touching just the top of Jazz's hand, he then pulled away, almost unsure if he could do such a thing. Prowl hadn’t been like this in a very, very long time, memories of that time once a long time ago rushed through him, causing his tanks to shift, a little bit of sickness rose in him.

Jazz looked up, a smile that completely melted Prowls spark present, Those thoughts dissolved in an instant upon seeing Jazz’s smile. How had he not seen this before? We’ll, he hadn’t exactly been looking for this sort of thing. Jazz's helm tilted, He reached out and snagged Prowls hand before it could fully pull back, grabbing it with a confidence that the SIC could practically feel. Prowl placed his servo in Jazz's. their fingers curled, at rest.

_So long my friend_

_Until we meet again_

_I'll remember you_

_And all the times that we used to..._

_... set right here on the edge of this pier_

_And watch the sunset disappear..._

_...And drink a beer_

_Drink a beer,_

_Drink a beer._

_Yeah._

"Ya like this music?" Jazz asked, still staring down at their interlocked fingers. Prowl nodded, a little upset that the song had ended, his optics finally trailed from his hand to Jazz's visor. "Just this genre." Prowl confirmed with a brisk but somewhat dazed nod of his helm. Jazz squeezed his partners hand, moving his chair closer to Prowls.

"Country? Ya, its quite soothin', good ta listen to when ya relaxin'" Jazz agreed, his tone low and honeyed, the kind where, one would think he had just woken up from recharge. Prowl made a soft, drawn out content sigh, leaning his body over, resting his helm down on Jazz's shoulder. Jazz was surprised at the action, part of him wondering if the mech would’ve done the same had he not been intoxicated. The saboteur placed his helm on Prowls head, his other hand coming over to hold the TICS unoccupied one.

"Ya know, ah made a song, for ya." Jazz said thoughtfully, a little bit f embarassness in his tone. Jazz’s heating fans kicked on, and he looked away, nervous. Prowl hummed, nuzzling his helm closer to Jazz's cables, tracing the small connection lines on his partners servo.

"Really, when?" Prowl said softly, tilting his head to look up at Jazz, who looked down at him. Jazz shrugged non nonchalantly. “’Tha’ day after I firs’ saw ya.” He replied. Prowls optic ridge rose. “Sing it to me.” he demanded lightly. Jazz smirked.

"Ya want me ta?" He asked, as if he hadn't expected that. Prowl nodded, lifting his helm to kiss Jazz's cheek. When had he gotten so… lovey? Was it the High grade that made him want to kiss every part of jazz’s frame? That made him want to keep his attention on him, made everything he said so interesting, nothing else in the world couldve mattered?

"Please do." he answered after a little pause, dizzyness rising in him, he vented hard and closed his optics. "Alright." Jazz wetted his lips, fingers letting go of Prowls only to wrap around the Paraxians back, hugging him close. Jazz began to hum, a low sound that hit Prowl right in the spark.

_"Tonight is tha' night things will change between us._

_Tonight is tha' night, ya it is._

_Tonight is tha' night ah will show ah care._

_Tonight, yeah tonight... This is it."_

Jazz paused, Prowls smile widened. Jazz's voice was perfect, it was heaven. Just being there in his arms was enough to make Prowls world go around. Singing was more of a human thing, but the concept was not uncommon on cybertron. If he remembered correctly, Jazz actualy ran a night club, way back when. It showed in his voice.

_"This here? Look around ya, ah want ya ta take this all in._

_Where you are, where Ah'am, and who's arms ya are in._

_Ah want you ta remember this, jus' how it is._

_Save it in a file an' seal it with a kiss."_

Jazz's main digit began to circle Prowls back between his wings in a soothing manor. As if it emphasize his point, Jazz used his left servo to tilt Prowls helm up to his, where Jazz placed a soft, tender kiss on his SIC's lips. He pulled away softly, still humming.

_"Tonight is tha' night ah will show ya mah spark,_

_Tonight is tha' night, yes it is._

_Tonight is tha' night ah will love ya like art._

_Tonight, yeah tonight... This is it._

_Can ya see meh? Ah'm hidin' nothin' from you._

_Ya don't gatta tell me, but you can show meh too._

_Tell meh what makes ya happy,_

_Angry or sad._

_Tell meh, Prowler, do ya like'em good or bad?"_

At that, Prowl snorted, rolling his optics at the mech who was holding him. Jazz paused once again a small grin on his face plates. He looked at the Paraxian as if he wanted an answer. Prowl pursed his lips. "That depends." He answered. Jazz's lips lifted up into a lopsided grin, Finger darting out to trace Prowls small smile. It seamed that answer satisfied him.

_"Tonight is tha' night ah will battle yo demons._

_Tonight is tha' night, yeah it is._

_Tonight is tha' night ya light up like a beacon._

_Tonight, yeah, tonight... This is it._

_Prowl, less' be honest, ya can turn meh down._

_Ah promise ah'll respect ya, ah won't even frown._

_But before ya say, there's one thing ya should know._

_Prowl, Ah've loved ya, since a lon' time ago."_

Prowls optics offlined again as he moved himself closer to Jazz. Jazz smiled down at him, still wondering how a mech like him could catch Jazz’s optics. The saboteurs lenses narrowed beneath his visor to examine every feature, from the red of his chevron to the black of his pedes.

Jazz was singing in a repeating tune, causing Prowls processor to go numb with lovely thoughts. He was so taken away by the lyrics. He couldn't even hear the actual song playing in the background. All he focused on was the vibrating of the mechs vocal cords and the thrumming of his spark.

_"Tonight is tha' night ah will hold ya against meh._

_Tonight is tha' night, yeah it is._

_Tonight is tha' night well be whoever we should be._

_Tonight, yeah tonight, this is it..._

_Ah don' want ya'ta leave, but if ya want ah'll go._

_But 'gain fore ah leave ah want ya'ta know._

_Ah may sound sappy, but this is from mah spark._

_Yes Prowler, ah speak the truth, less' tell tha' whole Ark._

_Ah want ya. Is it so hard ta see?_

_Do ya share this feelin' or is it jus' meh?_

_Can you tell me who ya love,_

_An' ill love ya righ' back._

_'Cause this ain't a fable. Issa written fact._

_Tonight is tha' night that well dance till we hurt._

_Tonight is tha' night, ya it is._

_Tonight is tha' night our sparks will burn._

_Tonight, is tha' night, yes it is._

_Prowler, tonight is tha' night imma make ya laugh harder._

_Oh tonight, yes tonight, this is it._

_Tonight is tha' night, ya ill make ya dreams come true._

_Tonight, yes tonight, ah'll listen, an' be there for you."_

Prowls optics onlined, he moved himself so he was sitting up. Jazz's servos dropped, then sought out his own, curling their digits together once again. Jazz leaned in, forehelm to forehelm and softly, he sang.

_"Tonight is tha night..._

_Ya something ah treasure._

_Tonight is tha' night..._

_If ah didn' know better._

_Tonight is tha' night_

_But what ah know_

_Tonight, yes this night..._

_Its'a Night Ta Remember."_

There was a long pause where they both relished in the feeling of one another. Then Jazz continued, his tone normal but still somewhat sing-singsong.

"And ya can bet ya aft ah ain't gonna forget it." Prowl was lost for words. Actually, no words could have ever summed up what he was feeling right then. He watched Jazz stand up and kneel before him, cupping Prowls hands in his own. Finally, Prowl swallowed finding his words..

"Ah ain't gonna forget ya, Prowl" He told the SIC honestly. Prowl made a face. That had to have been the first time the mech ever called him by his actual name. And for some reason, he didn't like it as much as the nickname. Prowl was about to open his mouth to tell the mech that he wanted him to call him 'Prowler' but Jazz beat him to it.

"Can ah show ya how much ah love ya, Prowler?" Prowl tilted his helm, an honest curiocity lingering in his blue optics, they trailed down from Jazz's optics to his lips, to his chin, then back up again. He didn't know how to respond to that, frag, he couldn't even open his mouth and form any words. But it seamed Blaster fixed that problem, with a loud, hip hop song turning on, Jazz flashed a grin.

_And I've tried to fight it, to fight it_

_But you're so magnetic, magnetic_

_Got one life, just live it, just live it_

_Now relax, and get on your back_

_If you wanna scream, yeah_

_Let me know and I'll take you there_

_Get you going like_

_Ah-ooh baby baby ooh baby baby_

_Ah-ooh baby baby ooh baby_

_If you wanna turn right_

_Hope you're ready to go all night_

_Get you going like_

_Ah-ooh baby baby ooh baby baby_

_Ah-ooh baby baby ooh baby_

_If you wanna scream._

It was an abrupt change of attitude, Prowl had to admit. One minuet Jazz was kneeling before him, looking at him with love and honesty. The next the mech was doing well... _T_ _ _his__. "What are you doing?" Prowl asked, optic ridge coked up just an inch as he watched Jazz slowly stand up, then sway fluidly in front of him.

"Ah'm dancin' for ya Prowler." Prowl shivered. Licking his lips just a bit as his optics trailed down Jazz's front, to his legs which were glued to the ground. however, his knees bent, hips swayed, His hands caressed his own thighs, sliding up to tickle his own headlights, nipping at his facial plates before finally smoothing over his helm.

Prowl watched the SICs hands as they repeated this, although slightly different, his servos lingered on his white interface panel, digits dipping into the seams by his thighs as if trying to turn himself on. Prowl basically gawked, hands tightening on the chair he was sitting on just a little bit, his body going stiff, his own pannel was heating up just a fraction, he could feel his spike twitch at the show before him. Yep, the mech was defintly a onc owner of a night club, he hadn’t seen moves like that from a cybertroanin, well, ever. It was hyponitizing, he wanted to keep his optics on that frame and never take them off.

"Ya like?" Jazz smirked, leaning over Prowl, those talented servos on his shoulders, aft sticking out behind him as he began lavishing Prowl with his hands. They went in almost the same trail as they did when Jazz was doing It to himself, down his bumper, circling his headlights, lingering on his stomach plaiting, drawing small, soft circles on the rapidly heating metal there.

Prowl groaned just a shy as soft tingles tickled him wherever Jazz touched. His helm fell back against the chair, back arching up just a bit into those beautiful touches.

"Mmmh." Prowl moaned, offlining his optics. Jazz positioned himself between Prowls legs, his servos leaving Prowls body causing the mech to feel suddenly empty. Prowls optics snapped open, just in time to see Jazz lift his servos into the air, hip cocking to the side as he lowered himself down to the tune of the music.

"Beautiful..." Prowl breathed as he watched the breathtaking scene, his spark pounded heavily in its chamber, his hand moved out to touch the saboteurs shoulder, so gently, as if one touch would cause him to disappear. Just as musically as Jazz bent down, he lifted himself up again. His servos resting on the SICs thighs, softly, slowly moving up his body to his neck, it took Prowl a minuet to realize that Jazz was now sitting on his lap.

Prowls servos sought out something to hold, immediately attaching themselves to Jazz's hips. Jazz leaned down while Prowl leaned up, their forehelms touched.

"Hey Prowler." Jazz said softly, Prowl smiled at the SIC, giving the mech an Eskimo kiss. Something he would normally never do in public. "Hey, Jazz." Prowl's voice brittle, tender, those servos that were once around the saboteur's waist came up to grip the SIC's upper arms. He was unaware of the fact that his thumb was gently massaging the silver metal there.

"How're ya feelin'?" Jazz asked, sliding his hand ever so slowly down the black and whites neck, coming to rest on his bumper, Prowl shivered under his touch, helm pushing just a bit more into Jazz's

"I'm alright, How are you?" While Prowl said this, his helm tilted back to kiss up the others nasal ridge, soft buttery kisses on Jazz's visor, a white hand moved up to meet a black one, fingers interlocking, Jazz pushed himself closer to the other "Ah'm havin' a good time, with you, O' course." Prowl couldn't stop his faceplates from heating up, Jazz smirked kindly at this, said mech leaned down, nipping at Prowls neck cables.

"Wha'? Ain't been complimented before?" Jazz asked, his voice set in a tease. Prowls head leaned back against the chair once again, giving the mech before him more access to his cables and lines, each little kiss dragged the Paraxian deeper down into a private heaven, they became softer, Prowls optics shuttered, a soft sigh escaping him.

"I have b-been." Prowl managed, well aware of the others servos once again circling his headlights, Prowls grip tightened on Jazz's fore arms. "Oh?" Jazz crooned, his glossia darting out to lick up Prowls neck, over his chin, to his lips. Prowl wanted to suck that glossia in and kiss the mech so badly, but Jazz pulled away before he could.

Jazz chuckled softly at his partners rather irritated look at being teased, Jazz lifted his right hand, which was still curled around the enforcers, he dipped his helm towards it, as Prowl looked over, the saboteur slowly pulled his fingers from around the others, then flattened his hand, palm to palm.

"Ya see this?" Jazz asked, still looking at their hands.

"Yes Jazz, I see it."

"Do ya know tha' meanin', though." Prowl tilted his helm, a curious look spreading on his face as he observed their hands, after a minuet, his processor telling him nothing, the SIC shook his head.

"This, this resembles a new begnin' fer tha' both o' us, Together." That had to have been the sweetest thing anyone had ever told the Paraxian, his wings fluttered behind him as his lips curled into a smile. Jazz really had some sappy things to say, but honestly… Prowl liked it.

"Wha’ ya say, Prowler? Wanna start a new begnin'?" Prowl vented lightly as he used his unoccupied servo to cup the back of Jazz's helm, forcing him closer, a digit shot out to rub delicate circles around the mechs audio horns.

"Jazz." Prowl stated, optics slowly coming back, they locked on that beautiful baby blue visor.

"Don't stop calling me that."

"What? Prowler?" Prowls doorwings trembled aat the low tone his partner used. "Yes, that." Prowl breathed, once again lips coming up to pepper the others face. Jazz leaned into the touch, fingers once again interlocking, his other servo laying flat against Prowls chest.

Prowls servo slid from Jazz's audio horn to his face, resting on the crook of his cheek. Jazz once again leaned into the touch, the softest of smiles present. "Is tha' a yes?" The saboteur quarried.

"Jazz..." Uh-oh, Jazz didn't like that tone one bit, it was the warning tone. The turn down tone, swallowing, Jazz angled his helm down a bit to capture Prowls entire face.

"Ya, Prowler?" Prowl smirked, causing the white mech to stiffen his body and cock his helm.

"Ask me in the morning, because I want to remember it." Prowl said softly, pulling Jazz's helm to his. Prowls spark lit up like a drum in its casing, Jazz's gaze moved from his lips to his optics several times, watching for a reaction.

Prowl jumped a bit when Jazz's lips finally touched his. Jazz pulled away to look at him, the Paraxian frowned just a bit at his partners lack of lips on his own, however, he wasn't frowning for long.

Jazz pressed his lips against his once again. There was nothing tentative about it, his kiss was confident, needy, but loving, pure deliciousness. Jazz's glossia darted out to trace the seams of Prowls lips, said mechs helm tilted, lips parting, allowing Jazz access which, was used without hesitation. Jazz's glossia snuck into Prowls mouth as if wanting to sample every part of it, Prowl pushed back, eager to taste Jazz. Their glossias fought a heated battle, each one trying to gain the upper hand and for a key into the others territory.

Prowls hands cupped that beautiful helm while Jazz's slipped down his back, twiddling with the hinges of his door wings, fingers dipping into the door handle, rubbing a hidden patch of sensory nodes Prowl didn't even know had been there.

Prowl arched his back, his kiss becoming more furious as Jazz toyed with his wings, Prowls hands shot out to return the favor, digits eagerly slipping into the seams of Jazz's chassis, tracing his spark chambers latch, then, they wrapped around his back, pulling the SIC flush against him.

All to soon it was over, Jazz pulled away, a line of fluid being the only thing still attaching their lips to the others, Prowl was panting, cooling fans on maximum to cool himself down, however, it seamed Jazz wasn't done. Prowls optics widened when the mech lapped up the line of fluid, chasing it back to its owner, Prowl pushed hard into the others lips, only for Jazz to pull away.

Prowl frowned, a small whine coming from his throat. Jazz smirked at this, a servo jerking just the right way over the latch of his door handle, Prowls moan was loud, sudden, optics fading to a near white.

"Mmmh, ah found tha' good spot huh?" Jazz crooned, swooping in to attack Prowls neck, denta pulling slightly at the cables while Jazz continued to tease both his door wings' handles, causing the Paraxian to damn near cry out in bliss.

Prowls spike was fully erect, pressing painfully against its housing, thrumming wildly trying to escape. Prowl cringed just a bit as his spike pulsed and throbbed, begging Prowl to be let lose. His plating heated up to a boiling point beneath Jazz who, chortled softly at the growing heat and the small bulge of Prowls plaiting as his spike pressed against the metal.

Prowl stifled a gasp when Jazz centred himself right over the inflaming metal, hands in his shoulders to push himself down on it. He slowly moved himself foreword, His own heated cod piece grinding against Prowls own. Jazz moaned quietly, a sound that caused Prowl to tremble, a shiver wrecking through his frame as Jazz pushed down harder, moving himself back and forth.

Prowls hands smoothed over his partners legs, to his aft where Prowl happily helped the other out, forcefully scraping Jazz's metal against his own. His helm fell back once more against the chair, hands going slack as Jazz leaned up to nibble on Prowls neck.

"Prowler..." Jazz whined, pulling at his neck cables again, One of Jazz's servos shot to trail down the SIC's stomach. Jazz reached behind him with the other, using his claws to gently scratch up Prowls inner thighs, His hips jerked up into Jazz's panel, both grunted.

Jazz lifted himself up, his servo cupping the bulge of his interface panel, Prowls optics fuzzed, his hips jerked once again into that hand. The others around them were either to drunk to notice, or saw but didn't care. But that didn't stop Prowls interface panel from snapping open, his spike pointing strait into the air. Jazz smirked, hovering just above Prowls spike while he looked at it, examining it.

With a deep grin, Jazz sneakily took a hold of Prowls spike, lowering himself down a bit so he was behind Prowls part. Jazz watched with an undying smirk as Prowl glanced around him nervously, lips parted just an inch.

"'Lax Prowler, ain't nobody gonna see us." Jazz whispered, his mouth nipping at the TICS neck, Prowl sucked in a hissing vent, leaning his head back just in time for Jazz to playfully squeeze the paraxians spike.

"J-Jazz..." Prowl moaned softly, fingers tightening on the saboteurs hips. Jazz slowly trailed his glossia up Prowls neck, stopping at his lips, Although they weren't kissing Prowl could still feel the smirk on his partners lips.

"Yes, Prowler?" Jazz drawled, squeezing just hard enough to make the SIC’s grip tighten even more. Prowl growled dangerously, bucking his hips up again, causing Jazz's hand to forcefully rub against his spike. "Ya want it, Prowler?" Jazz whispered, fingers twitching on Prowls appendage His thumb rising up to rub against the slit of it, Prowls hips jerked again, his optics pleading Jazz.

"Jazz.. Stop... Stop teasing me." With a chuckle, Jazz retorted. "Yes, Sir." And then the pleasure hit.

Prowl couldn't stop the gasps, moans and pants from coming when Jazz twirled his hand around his spike like that, hand tight against it. Jazz twisted his servo while lifting his hand up, Prowls legs stiffened, gears locking, Then, Jazz went faster.

Oh, oh it felt so good, the way Jazz yanked his spike hard, fast, their lips connected once again, Prowls fingers dig deep into Jazz's hip seams, the other hand rubbing against Jazz's own interface panel. He was an expert, nothing short of one. How had he gotten so good?

"Ahhh, P-Prowler." Jazz whimpered, pushing himself into that touch while he continued his long, speedy strokes on Prowls spike, Prowl hissed, fingers curling, leaving long silver scratches on the mechs panel.

"Open." Prowl demanded, it wasn't fair that he was getting all the pleasure. and to be honest, Prowl wanted to see what the mech did when he overloaded. His command was answered without a second thought. Jazz's panel immediately opened for him. Prowls optics lingered over the sleek black layered metal of his partners spike, then to Jazz's port, which was dripping bright pink transfluid, plopping onto Prowls thighs and legs.

After his little look over, Prowl didn't even hesitate. Two digits thrusted up into that wet, dripping port.

Jazz cried out, servo stopping all moments as pleasure assaulted him like a full blown attack. Prowl snarled at the lack of movement, thrusting his hips up, causing the dazed saboteur to continue his quest.

Prowls fingers curled inside Jazz's port, the tips twitching fast, rubbing against every node he could find, Prowl leaned up, now uncaring about the rest of the room, his lips slammed against Jazz's while he pulled his fingers out, only to add another, shoving those three digits up Jazz's port as far as they could go.

"Primus!" Jazz cried out, his body arching, helm rested on Prowls chassis, said mech took that as his chance to engulf one of Jazz's horns in his mouth, causing the music loving bot to jerk beneath him.

"I prefer to be called Prowler" The SIC ground out between Jazz's audio horns. his spike was throbbing, he was close, so close, his fingers thrusted harder and faster into Jazz's port, transfluid coated his entire hand, in response, Jazz squeezed Prowls spike hard, slamming his balled servo down to the base of it, beads of transfluid accumulated on the tip of Prowls spike, his face scrunched up, fingers picking up speed. It’d been so long.. it was a wonder he was already there...

"Oh... J-Jazz.." Prowl damn near screamed out, his frame jerking as a ball of energy grew in his spark to its breaking point. He pushed his digits faster, his body heating up rapidly, cooling fans threatening to overheat.

"Prowler!" Jazz cried back, the silence that followed went unnoticed by the two as their bodies pressed together, Prowl arched his back, just as Jazz arched his. Overload took over them both, Transfluid shot out from Prowls spike, coating Jazz's chassis, Jazz's own spike began to pump fluid, spraying itself all over Prowls heated chassis.

Prowl could only preform one last jerk as Jazz's body collapsed onto his own, Prowls optics closed, body slumping, his systems shutting down from a system overload.


	6. Native american

Sitting hidden among the large tan rocks lining the Ark and the vast space around it, a light gray and red frame hunkered down in the comfort of the early nights shadows. The sun was beginning to tuck tail and abandon this side of the earth for the other. The last rays shot out, struggling to reach out and illuminate the the area, wanting to grace the earth with its warmth for as long as it could, before the cold nip of night took its place.

The mechs red optics watched those single rays of light behind an orange visor. Although, the Decepticon who was wearing the visor hated it, He hated wearing a visor. But he had to use it, if only for the inferred sight that allowed him to see the targets inside the base through the walls.

The colored figure moved slightly, taking his gaze from the thinning lights to peer back over the rock he was behind, looking up with a tired expression at the large Autobot ship, base, half sunken in the sandy earth. He had been squatting for the past hour and a half. Observing the Autobots inside the base, like he had been _told_ to do.

Scouting was a _fun_ job. Please, take note of the fragging sarcasm. It wasn't fun unless you happened to enjoy sitting in the same spot _for_ _hours_ on end stalking multiple someones. But somebots actually like doing that slag, so who was he to judge? He was more of a go getter mech.

But back to the point, he absolutely _hated_ scouting missions. Was that all he was good for these days? Sitting there and staring at someone? Or more then one someone's? If he was being payed he demand more credits for just sitting there... But he wasn't being paid, so that _r_ _ _eally__ sucked.

Radar grumbled tiredly under his breath, not that any of the autobots could hear him over that loud aft music, or well at all really. He was pretty far away, so it would be hard for anyone to hear his small grumble from the distance, he hardly heard it himself.

What He __wanted__ to do was roll onto his back and recharge. He wanted to go back to the Nemisis and watch more of that human entertainment. Also, he wanted to just get the frag out of there. He hated scouting, hated it! Though, our dear readers got that point the last six times he complained about it :]

But _Noo_ Megatron demanded he would have to sit there until he either gathered worthy information- and no, sadly, noting that the Autobots were indeed inside the base was apparently _not_ noteworthy information- or until he passed out, which again he really wanted to do.

He wanted a lot of things, to many things, things that he would never get. Like a Cyberwolf, wouldn't it be awesome to have a pet Cyberwolf running around you? Or one of those huge cool looking shoulder cannons like the ones Metroplex had. or Maybe new Audios that could mute people, because his didn't seam to want to mute anything. But one thing he wanted, one thing he wanted most of all...

Was to just _f_ _ _ragging__ recharge. Oh, he'd kill for a good recharge right about then, but back to the first note, he _COULDN'T_. Because he was 'scouting' (aka, stalking) the Autobot base.

Finally having enough of the squatting, Radar leaned back and let the earths gravity take over. Plopping him right down on his aft. A mini dust storm picked up around him when he landed but that didn't stop him from stretching his legs out before him to wheel his wheeled feet up and down the orange rock in front of him a few times. (Think movie verse Sideswipe) but that all in its own became boring. It took a minuet to get there, but it did.

Who knew Autobots could party so hard? Wasn't partying and drinking for the decepticons? They'd been going at it for the past four hours. Nonstop upbeat music of all kinds, some made him hum along others made him want a mute button even more. He had even seen a few bots purge outside before running back in. Mainly that red one, Sideswipe, was it? Remember names? Hah, he was to lazy for that.

Oh, he also wanted to go in there and party as well, who wouldn't? he could use a wash wrack too, he felt dirty, sitting there in all that organic sand for so long. Was it __two__ _whole hours_ now? He probably had sand in those places nobot wanted sand to be... Actually now that he though about it...

Yep, he had sand there. Just great, fragging great, he was going to look like a sand monster when he stood up, he knew it. Having sand fall out of different places.

Couldn't they have sent out someone else? Like Barricade for instance, he was a scout too! Frag, Barricade hadn't been sent out on a mission for ages, Radar was deployed not four days ago to do the __same exact__ pit-spawned thing he was doing right now! He was even sitting in the __same__ fragging place he was before! Literally! If he looked hard enough he could probably find his indent.

"It's boring out here?" Radar drawled to himself in his deep somewhat Jamaican accent. He knew no one else was listening to him. So why not start a conversation? With a heavy vent and a nasty sounding clear of his vocalizer, Radar allowed himself to actually fall onto his back he kicked his wheels up on the rock once again. Legs crossed, hands resting behind his helm letting he let his scanner do its job take control of where the Autobots were.

"Uh-huh, boring as eva'" He replied to himself. Was he really that bored that conversations with himself seamed more interesting what he was doing? You know what'd be interesting? If he actually got his aft up and walked inside the base. He wondered what the autobots would do, suddenly seeing a decepticon coming in and drinking with them. Would they notice right away? Or would it take them several minutes?

With that thought in mind, Radar threw his head up, his hands outstretched before him as if to grab onto something, his digits grabbed nothing but that didn't stop him from throwing out a grunt, attempting to heave himself up.

But _that_ failed horribly, like _everything_ _ _else__ in his life. His body came crashing back to the earth like a meteor to a planet, and he was right back to where he started... Somewhat. Radar groaned rocking his helm to the side. Why was this so hard? His body was being lazy, he wanted to get up, but his body didn't want to. He shouldn't have laid down in the first place, now he was never getting back up.

...The everyday struggles.

The grey mech started up at the darkening sky for a few minuets, counting the stars that looked down on him from above like some kind of supreme force. He didn't think of anything, really. His processor was blank, all his thoughts that he did have soon became overused and plain.

He had to think of something to do, anything to pass the unending time. He had already done everything though... He had counted the rocks, counted the panels on the front of the Ark then calculated how many panels the entire ship had both outside and inside, under it and the roof.

There were twenty thousand eight hundred and forty two, incase you were wondering.

He took a handful of sand and counted the individual little sand rocks in it. He had also stood still for sixty minuets while a weird looking black bird that he named Chester, sat on his helm and looked around.

Chester was the best part of the day to be honest, to bad he released some of his chunky white fluids onto Radars helm, that caused the mech to think the bird was attacking him with acid.

And it ended with a dead Chester.

But Radar buried him, so it was okay.

He couldn't spot a single important thing with the Autobots. __That's__ why he was a warrior instead of a scout. Because warriors didn't have to sit there and watch they just ran right in after the scout confirmed the attack. Wait... They were partying, that could be worthy information! It could be the perfect opportunity to attack the base when they were all to drunk to defend themselves!

Now all he had to do was comm. Megatron and tell him… But his comm link was all the way up there on his helm and his hands were all the way down here... So... So __very__ far away...

"Foe frags' sake man." Radar told himself rocking his helm side to side to punctuate each word. He lifted a hand grunting as he did so like it was the hardest thing in the world to do at that moment.

"Radar to Megatron, com'n."

 **:This is** _ _Lord__ **Megatron.:**

Radar rolled his optics still laying flat on his back. He waved his hands around the air in a 'do you __believe__ this guy?' Motion while he mouth the words.

" _Lord_ Megatron. I tink I migh' foun' som'em of impo'nce."

 **:Do tell.:** was Megatrons curt, unbelieving reply. Finally lifting himself up, Radar willed himself to actually do his job by peaking back over the rock at the Arks entrance.

:Da Aut'a bots got a goo' party going on, lots'a drunkies.: Radar supplied, he could practically see Megatron waving his hand for him to go on.

"And'a... Day drunk as pit, migh' be'a goo' tie' to get in dere dont'cha'think? Kill'em off And'a... Tings like dat"

There was a long pause in which Radar took that time to actually stand up, it took a minuet, but he got it. And he was right, sand did fall from his body at random places. He did a little dance twirling his fingers inside gaps to release some of the sand that was clogged. And by the time he had finished his little clean up, the comm line picked up again.

**:I see. Remain there while we ready the troops.:**

Radar growled, now that he'd actually gotten up he was being told to sit back down! Why couldn't he just go back? Like. ' _Excellent job Radar, you may return to base'_ seriously! But of course, that would never happen. Radar sighed. A lot of things he wanted to do would never happen...

-(#)-

Prowl slipped online first, his processor was slow to boot up. When his optics shimmered online dully, the images before him came in blurs, the first thing he could distinguish, after waking up, was none other then Jazz. Of course, _Jazz was blocking his view from everything else in the room. so how could he not see him?_ His helm was nuzzled into Prowls neck, arms wrapped tight around his back and a firm grip on his door hinges. Prowl lifted his helm up running his optics over the offlines frame, a small smile pulled his lips up into a smile, When was the last time he smiled like this?

It came as one of the softest of sounds Prowl ever had the privilege of hearing, tiny bitty gears turning and clicking within such an intelligent processor. Jazz's powerful engine began puttering into awareness. Prowl watched it all, up until a small, hardly noticeable moan accompanied the saboteurs black helm lifting up. Jazz stared into nothing for a few moments as he woke, ever so slightly rocking.

Jazz's visor flickered, then a long tired grin twitched onto his face. Prowl studied that grin, but for some reason it wasn't... right, it was different somehow. The grin was more... Criminal then it was normally, even in his hazed state Prowl could tell. It looked as if Jazz suddenly held Unicron inside of him.

Jazz wasn’t as heavy as most, so Prowl could easily move Jazz down an inch to sit himself up, Prowl straitened his back the best he could. His helm tilted partially, only the hint of a smile on his face. He stared hard at the saboteur. Jazz looked up at Prowls stare, then down at their chassis, just now remembering he was laying in both their transfluid. He sat up, fingering a digit through said fluids, it was still wet, so they hadn’t been passed out for long. He rolled some of it between his fingers, looking interestingly at it, He looked up to say something, but stopped when he noticed the continuous look Prowl was giving him.

"Why ya lookin' at me like tha'?" Jazz asked his tone suggested he knew exactly why Prowl was staring at him like that but his question went unanswered. Prowl continued to stare at the mech, unmoving. Unbreaking. "Ah, man." Jazz whined. He ducked his helm, wiping the fluids off on his legplate somehow knowing that whatever he was hiding, Prowl knew. It was like Prowl knew everything. It was _scary_.

"Ah couldn' help it." He bartered like a sparkling, dodging his way around the actual 'thing' by a quick look around them, and a hand to the back of his helm. To both his and Prowls surprise they had the attention of absolutely no one. However, that random _j_ _ _uicy__ detail didn't, and wouldn't deter the SIC. Although it was a plus, Prowl couldn’t help but wonder how it would be when they were both behind the locked doors of a safe, private berth room. He wanted to know just how loud he could get Jazz to be

"Jazz." He drawled in that tone he used for the twins to get them to fess up, Jazz scratched at the back of his helm again, wiggling around a bit on Prowls lap, looking anywhere but at the SIC, finally, Jazz stopped looking down and locked his visor on Prowls chassis.

"Ah might'a, taken a few pictures a'ya, ya'know, ya make real cute faces..." Prowls optics narrowed just a hair, but the grin on his lips pulled a little wider. Little enough that one wouldn't notice it unless they knew what they were looking for.

"I'll remember that if I ever see myself somehow make its way around the Ark." Prowl tested sweeping his servo around the rec. room like Vanna White to prove his point. Jazz raised both hands defensively, waving them a bit in front of his face. However, when the mech seamed to finally think through what the Paraxian had said, his smile turned into a frown, he straitened up, crossing his arms over his chassis.

"Ah ain't showin' nobody mah Prowler." Jazz defended, his tone almost daring a mech to walk up to him and look at the pictures. He glared around the rec. room, his engine growling. And all this somehow caused the SIC's spark to flutter, cooling fans kicking on a notch. Outwardly, he didnt show the pleasure of being called Jazz's 'little secret.' So he just tilted his helm more so then it had been originally.

"Your Prowler?" Said mech questioned deeply, lifting a hand to pet the pholyhemix's chin, forgetting where that exact servo had been until the moment it left purple streaks over the mechs faceplate. Feeling a little guilty, Prowl lifted his other servo to wipe the semi-dry fluid off only to have Jazz childishly smack his hand away, that earned a disapproving from Prowl i _mmediately_.

"Ya, ya mine now, 'nd don't wipe it off, ah wanna show off mah prize." Jazz crooned to his potential mate. At the last word, He leaned foreword and dragged his clawed digit under Prowls chin, forcing him to look up. Although Prowl was already looking up, The SIC frowned a bit, he mirrored Jazz by leaning up, getting in the mechs personal bubble... If he even had one.

"You want to show me off by leaving your own transfluid on your face?" Prowl said with a raised optic ridge like didn't make any sense, and to Prowl, it really didn't. Jazz's grin broadened even more, with a brisk, silly halfway tilted nod of his helm, Jazz replied a curt. "Yep" that sounded more like a humans palmerainian or chichiwawa dog then anything else. It was too high pitched for the likes of Jazz... It sounded... Really weird, Prowl decided.

Prowl sighed, rolling his optics letting out a breathy snort of slight irritation. Although he wanted to keep him there, Prowl slowly moved Jazz down then off his lap, snapping his interface panel closed, hidden to the prying optics that may or may not have been watching them. Jazz did the same, that grin still plastered on his face along side the transfluid that, to the SIC was becoming _increasingly_ irritating by the second.

Once all the was done, Prowl wiped his now purple hand off on his leg, it didn't solve the entire problem but it did make him look less guilty. Well, not really he was simply moving the transfluid from one place to another, and to be honest the spot he wiped it on was probably more noticeable then if he kept most of it on his hand. It was a stupid mistake, Prowl would admit. If he were less messed up he was sure he wouldn't have done it. But now, he was in the land of a starters hangover. The more he thought about it the harder his processor throbbed... Still, felt a little weightless, still felt a little tipsy, but the interface had sobered him up just a bit.

Prowl looked up once again for the what had to be the eighth time that day into Jazz's visor. Jazz had been staring at him, looking him up and down like some kind of pimp to his hoe. Not that Prowl was a hoe, that was his third time interfacing.

And it was defiantly the best and most pleasing interface he had ever had. Not that there was a lot to choose from. But anyway... it was a weird look, even weirder with the fluids. He looked almost... Hungry, dare he say it, For more. Prowl decided he liked that look. But that pit spawned fluid on his face was distracting him!

"Jazz..." Prowl took that small pause to look over the rec. room, although he wanted to look at Jazz he just couldn't take him seriously with bright purple fluids on his face standing out like energon on a black canvas.

"Nuh-uh." Jazz cut in before Prowl could say anything else, already knowing what Prowl wanted him to do. The saboteur waved a pointed digit back and forth in a scolding manner, he was grinning a full length toothy grin. Prowl frowned at the waving digit, and quick, before he could even processed what exactly he was doing. Prowl pursed his lips And gave his revenge by swiftly _smacking_ the offending digit away.

It was silent, Jazz's mouth was slightly agape, the servo that Prowl had attacked hovered limp at his side, his pointer finger wilted like a dead flower. Jazz stared with disbelief at the SIC who looked with hard narrowed optics back at him. for a complete minuet the duo had a no emotion stare down, anyone could tell that Prowl was stubborn as a sparkling.

Finally, Jazz opened his mouth to say something, but all that left was a tiny squeak, he cleared his throat to correct himself and try again only to have Prowl beat him to it. "It is going to dry, then stick and stain. And __then__ it will smell, do you really want to walk around like that?"

"Ah wan' it ta stain." Jazz retorted stubbornly. "Then it'll be there forever an' ah'll always remember ya when ah look in tha' mirror."

"That is disgusting, Jazz." Jazz opened mouth. "No, Jazz. I am not kidding. That is __really__ disgusting." Prowls face scrunched up in obvious disgust, He sniffled, wings twitching once as he tried to figure out why his processor hadn't crashed yet from the sere illogicality of the situation.

Jazz chuckled, eyeing Prowl with the devils optic, He stood taller, looking around the rec room really quick before doing what seamed to be checking the exits. He then did something that baffled the SIC moreso then he had before, Jazz used his hand to sexily run it down his frame just to smear the transfluid on his chest onto his servo. He lifted his hand when it was coated with the dryish fluid, and did something that surprised the SIC even more.

He wiped it.

He wiped it _all over his face._

Then, in a cheeky tone, he smirked sideways at his longtime friend, and said. "No sacrifice no victory. Know what ah'm sayin'?"

Despite being completely shocked, Prowl managed to form the words to speak to the beautiful mech standing before him. "Jazz, that makes no sense what so ever—" Jazz giggled, Almost girlishly reaching down to draw a smily face with the transfluid on his chassis. Why was there so much transfluid? Where did it come from?

"—Stop that, you look ridiculous." Jazz continued to wipe the transfluid onto his frame though, despite Prowls pleas. he walked closer to the door winger, practically pinning Prowl against the wall so he could take whatever fluid was on Prowl and put it on himself.

Prowls optic twitched.

"Nah, ah wanna be purple, 'cause then ah'll thinka you."

It took another minuet for Prowl to find his voice once again, as this time passed, he watched Jazz take almost every last drop of transfluid off Prowl and put it on himself. Making him look tie-die purple black and white. Once the fluid was off Prowl and transferred to Jazz. Said mech almost looked sad, like there wasn't enough.

"Dang, ah need more, ya wanna gimmie some?"

"No." was Prowls immediate response, Jazz pouted, lower lip quivering as he looked down, giving Prowl the puppy dog look. "You are _obsessed_." Prowl paused, looking over Jazz. "And at the moment, disgusting."

"So?" Jazz drawled cheekily, blinking his visor in such a way a human female would her eyelashes. Prowl turned away from the mech, a hand to his nasal ridge, massaging it as he made his way towards the door to save him from the embarrassment that was Jazz. Was it just him, or was his helm-ache getting stronger?

"Com'ere!" Jazz called to him. Prowl only walked faster.

Two feet from the door, two feet away, but he never made it. He was tackled from behind. Fore a small Jazz was scurrying onto his frame managing to turn him over and pin his arms down. The room was quiet, Prowl swore the music had stopped once again. He narrowed his optics up at Jazz, but he only got a brief glimpse of his face before all he was seeing was the blue of Jazz's visor in his face. Jazz pressed his lips eagerly against his, pulling him away from the discomfort of his doorwings being mushed against the ground.

Prowl simply melted, his optics shuttered offline as all the tension in his body disintegrated like a voltage weapon to a toaster. It took him a minuet to realize that Jazz had released his hands, and those same hands were now on his face... Roaming around, almost as if they were drawing something...

Jazz pulled away, looking down at Prowl only to burst out laughing, Prowl gave a confused look, taking a glance around him trying to pinpoint what was making the saboteur laugh.

Finding nothing particularly funny, well to him, Prowl abruptly pushed Jazz from his chassis like a teen caught interfacing and stood. However, the smaller mech didn't get up, 'simply sat cross legged on the ground, helm in his hands as he laughed.

"What's so funny?" Prowl asked maybe a bit to harshly, Jazz looked up, a nasal snort left him as he threw his helm back into his hands.

"Ya... Ya look like'a Native American."

"A Native American..." Prowl whispered to himself bewildered he looked down with a finger pressed lightly to his lips. Realization hit him like a full blown attack, his servos shot to his face where he felt along his cheeks.

There, now on his hands were small clumps of dry transfluid. Prowl growled to himself, once again wiping it off on his leg.

"Ya a warrior now Prowlie, ya got... Ya got tha' chiefs makeup!" Was Jazz still drunk? Again, Prowl Wouldn't doubt it.

Optics narrowed, Prowl stepped foreword. He wanted to look threatening, but his posture quite obviously lacked it. Jazz quickly shut up though, and looked up at Prowl.

" _Uh-oh_." Was the small -l _ogical-_ reply that came from Jazz. Quicker then Prowl had seen anyone stand up, Jazz was on his feet, running to the opposite side of the rec. room.

Like a feral dog stalking a cat, Prowl gave chase.

"Hide meh!" Jazz hollered at Blaster, jumping onto the stage and doing an unnecessary side roll behind the booth then, The silver mech whispered up to the boom box in a small whiny voice. "Don't leave meh ‘ere with tha’ angry officer." Blaster snorted, tossing his shoulder to the side to expose the quarter purple mech to Prowl, who was slowly making his way up the stairs staring at Jazz in a predatory fashion.

Jazz ducked behind Blaster again, grabbing onto the bigger mechs shoulders so he wouldn't be able to turn around or move him into the line of sight. "Scared?" Blaster teased, a laugh to his voice as the orange and yellow frame stood still for the smaller mechs benefit, a hand still on the controls for the booth.

Jazz peaked over the mechs shoulder, noticing Prowl standing a little bit away, four lines of now dried transfluid on his face, two on each cheek.

Their optics met. well, to be truthful, Prowls never left. Prowls optics weren't hard but maybe a bit playful mixed with amusement, the frown on his face was obviously forced. Jazz could see it but he was looking for it.

Jazz ducked his helm a bit then switched sides just to see if the mech was actually trying to look at him. When he peaked back over Blasters opposite shoulder, Prowl was still starting at him.

"Now ‘e staring at meh." Jazz whined again like a wrongly accused child. Prowl opened his mouth to speak, but whatever he was going to say never came.

A blinding white light flashed, engulfing them all. It happened all too quickly to be expected, It took too long to take in the sound of a muffled barrage of seeker missiles, The Arks protective armor had already been penetrated, and they had already been thrown back by the closeness of the explosion. Smoke filled the air as a rough breeze from outside drafted in. Jazz had landed on his back, dazed, the mech looked up from his spot. Debris cluttered the stage, he felt pain in several spots on his body, his processor whirrled. He stared at the spot Prowl had been mere moments ago, only to find it empty of the autobot, and now occupied my geared Decepticons, as they stormed in.

"Prowl?" Jazz whimpered, He sat up.

A huge hole in the wall, yes. Decepticons storming in, yes. The rec. room springing into action and the alarms sounding, again, yes.

But no Prowl.

  



End file.
